


Goya

by Fallenstar126



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Depression, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Neglect, Running Away, homophobic parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenstar126/pseuds/Fallenstar126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment of transfixion when you forget your disbelief and allow fantasy to seem like reality<br/>_____</p><p>Depression isn't something you can fix by forcing yourself to smile, and move on. No, depression was something that clung to your mind, and refused to budge. Frank tried, tried so hard to get better. But on the days like today, the days where he's forgotten by the people who are supposed to love him, he asks himself, who is he acting for anymore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reposting this because I've edited it and added things, and it will work better in chapters! My posting schedule is every Sunday (hopefully)
> 
> I am putting myself through college rn, so if you have a spare few dollars, maybe toss me a couple bucks for a coffee! http://ko-fi.com/humanwreakage

 

Frank was an outcast. He barely had any friends, and would rather stay home and listen to music than to be out on the town. He never really saw anything wrong with that, though. Except, some days he wished he could just stop existing for a bit, but not forever.

 

He was depressed, but not suicidal. There was a difference. Frank had known that he had something wrong with him for a long time, and it was fairly obvious to everyone around him besides his own parents. He had figured it out long ago, and at first, it had worried him. Until he had come to terms with the fact he wasn’t meant to be happy. The only reason Frank brought it up was when someone asked, which was, in reality, never. No one cared enough. No one wanted to hear about his problems when they had plenty of their own.

 

The only person he spoke freely about it was Gerard Way, and even his younger brother, Mikey Way, at times.

 

Frank had actually been friends with Mikey first, as the younger Way was only a year older than him, though they ended up in the same class because he had been held back a year due to a medical condition. They became 'friends' quickly, since they didn't hate each other, and managed to work on a project without one of them freaking out at the other for a reason neither would remember in the future. After they got past the painful awkwardness of not knowing each other, of course. Eventually, they became actual friends when they found a shared interest in playing music, though Frank preferred the guitar, while Mikey, the bass.

 

He constantly mentioned having a brother, fawning over his art skills and music taste, but Frank never saw him. Until one day, he emerged from his ‘lair’, as Mikey had taken to calling it. Frank knew that Mikey spent a majority of his time down there though.

 

Frank had found a drawing on the table, and had been admiring it when Gerard, the mysterious brother, had emerged from his basement room, stealing a juicebox of orange juice and snatching the photo back with a frown. Frank wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or the drawing, though they were both equally as likely.

 

“Hey!” Frank exclaimed, making weak grabby hands for the drawing. Gerard, or as Frank was calling him in his mind at the time, the attractive asshole that lives in Mikey’s basement, raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“What? It’s my drawing, I think I have rights to picking it up and keeping it away from people I don’t know,” he replied, sounding nervous and a little awkward. Frank kind of wanted to scoop him up and hide him away. He seemed innocent, but not enough to make conversation impossible.

 

“You drew that?” Frank asked, and attractive asshole who lives in Mikey’s basement nodded slightly, and Frank was in awe for a moment before he started rambling about it. He wasn’t much of an art nut, but to find out that a drawing that he thought deserved to be been seen by others and not thrown aside amount the random junk that was on the table, was created by someone who lived in his best friends basement, was pretty fucking cool.

 

“How do you do it?” Frank asked after he finished his rambling, mostly just running out of air, and Gerard shrugged helplessly.

 

“I just can. I’ve practiced a lot, and my grandma taught me. I… I can show you a few others, if you really want,” he offered after a brief moment of contemplation, and Frank nodded almost too eagerly.

 

They had spoken almost every day from that point on, whether it be about comics, or an old horror film they had just found on late night TV. Sometimes, Frank would play some music for Gerard on an old, beat up acoustic guitar he had lying around. They would mock the pop songs that played on the radio, though secretly they both loved to dance around the basement to them, on the nights they had a little too much warm beer. Frank might run guitar riffs or lyrics he thought of by Gerard, who would nod, listening calmly as he sketched this week’s comic character into his beat up, coffee stained notebook.

 

Gerard had been there for him through so much, had completely supported him when he came out, even when his parents didn’t. They were sitting in the basement the day before Franks entire life went down the drain.

 

He was lazily strumming the guitar as Gerard was explaining a concept idea for the new comic he was making. It was a very lazy and calming day, and maybe that’s when Frank should have decided not to execute his plan that night, so he wouldn’t ruin the nice day he was having.

 

“I’m going to ask my parents to put me in therapy tonight.” Gerard, confused, glanced up from his book when Frank spoke.

 

“Haven’t you already? I thought you did that last month,” Frank looked sheepish for a moment, and Gerard rolled his eyes. “Chickened out again?”

 

He then nodded, setting the guitar to the side.

 

“It’s just hard, you know? They never listen to me unless I get bad marks on a test, or did something illegal,” Frank said, grabbing a smoke from the box sitting next to him, carefully placing it in his mouth and lighting it, speaking with it hanging out of his mouth.

 

“Even when I came out to them, they refused to listen, they pretended like I didn’t exist. It sucks, because the only time I know that they actually realize I’m alive is when they tell me to turn down my music or my amp, or something. I swear, they wouldn’t even notice if I were gone.”

 

Gerard nodded slightly, deep in thought. Frank let out a small puff of smoke, imagining a tiny dragon Frank blowing steam out of his nose. He would have to ask Gerard to draw that for him later.

 

“So why don’t you? Run away, I mean,” Gerard asked, surprising Frank, and causing him to choke on smoke, looking at him incredulously.

 

“I couldn’t do th-”

 

“Why not? You just said they wouldn’t care.”

 

“Yeah, but how would I pay for anything? I’m only 16, I can’t get a job to live off of. I can’t get a house. I’ll die, or be stuck on the street for years!” Frank said, slowing beginning to panic because he was actually thinking about doing it, and that terrified him. He wasn’t sure if it was the thought of being alone that terrified him, or all of the responsibility that would be placed on his shoulders.

 

“I wouldn’t let you die, or live on the streets. You can come and live with me and Mikey.” Gerard calmly replied, as if it were obvious. From the look on his face, it was obvious to Gerard, and he couldn’t understand why Frank didn’t know that already.

 

“If your parents suck that much, why stick around, right? Hell, even if your parents don’t suck, it’s nice to have your own place.” Gerard would know, he had gotten Mikey and himself a small apartment closer to the school and Frank the second he had turned 18, and could take care of Mikey on his own. He didn’t do it because his parents were bad; the boys just needed their own space. Thankfully, their mom understood, but still made regular visits.

 

Despite that, Frank quickly shook his head. Guilt would destroy him, even if his parents wouldn’t care. “That would be like stealing their only child.”

 

“Obviously, they don’t deserve that child if this is how he’s treated. Frank, you know how much I hate kids, but if I had a kid, I would want one as fucking awesome as you are,” Gerard paused, leaning on his knee and putting a finger over his mouth, continuing, “Please pretend that didn’t sound weird.”

 

Frank frowned while crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“I just…” he started off strong, but faltered, letting his hands fall into his lap. “I can’t run away.”

 

He got up and grabbed his bag from the floor in front of him. Frank walked out without another word, and Gerard didn’t try to stop him, knowing that he needed to be alone.

 

Frank arrived home to an empty house a little while later after going through at least three of his last five cigarettes. Gerard would buy him more later. He swore loudly, tossing his bag into the closet with a frustrated yell. It was well after the time his parents were supposed to be home, which meant they had gone out to dinner together and forgot about him. Again. Just what he needed.

 

“Jackass parents that don’t give a fuck about their only child. God damn it!” Frank yelled to the empty room, unable to control his anger as he slammed the door.  He looked through the cupboards, looking to see if there was even anything he could eat for dinner. He managed to scrape together a head of lettuce, and an apple. Frank swore again, slamming the cupboard door shut.

 

“I’ll make myself a fucking apple salad, fucking great!” Frank continued, yelling as he stormed into the living room. The neighbors would probably complain, but he didn’t give a shit who heard him, he was pissed off. He dropped onto the couch, sighing deeply.

 

“This is complete and utter bullshit…” Frank mumbled into the couch cushion, finally calming. “Fuck…”

 

After a few minutes, he pulled himself up to a sitting position, turning around, and pulling his knees to his chin. He felt almost as if a black hole had opened up inside of him and started swallowing everything, starting with his heart, and was now tugging on his lungs, threatening to tear them apart.

 

He tried to shake the feeling off and got up, grabbing one of the loudest, angriest CDs he could find from the piles in his room, and walked back to the living room where the CD player was connected to the surround sound system his mom had bought for watching movies. For herself, of course. Frank slipped the CD into the player and cranked the sound. If he blew the speakers, well, then it serves her right.

 

Frank mumbled along to the lyrics, throwing himself onto the couch again. He didn’t want to be sitting there, though.

 

The more he thought about what Gerard said, the more he wanted to do it. Frank wanted to run until he couldn’t breath, and then keep running until he passed out from pure exhaustion. He could see in his mind’s eye, him, Gerard and Mikey in an old car, speeding down a tunnel, away from everything, all of their problems left in the dust, but not forgotten. They would learn to not make those same mistakes anymore. Frank wouldn’t be ignored there, wherever they went, because his friends actually cared about him. They would find some way to survive, they could do it, he knew they could. They would live off food from cans they stole from a vending machine if they really had to.

 

Frank heard something that wasn’t the beat of the music, and opened one eye, seeing a familiar head of always greasy black hair through the window frosted beside the door. He frowned and got up again, pausing the music, and wandered over to the door, opening it.

 

“Gerard, what are you doing here?”

 

“I bought veggie burgers,” was his only reply, and Frank was eternally grateful, though still sighed deeply.

 

“How do you always know?” Frank asked, opening the door wider to let him in.

 

“I’m like Spiderman a little bit. Remember when you bit me? My Frank senses were tingling, so I knew something was wrong.”

 

“There’s a slight flaw in that explanation,” Frank pointed out, closing the door behind Gerard, who walked over and put the bag containing the burgers on the table. He turned to look over at Frank with one eyebrow raised, his hands on his hips. “I haven’t ever bit you.”

 

Gerard shrugged, and flopped onto the couch, completely at home.  “Then maybe I’m just your personal super hero.”

 

Frank rolled his eyes, and sat down next to him, grabbing one of the burgers from the bag.

 

“Or, maybe you’re just a weirdo. I don’t think a superhero would have your complexion, and your legs would look awful in spandex.” Frank replied, and Gerard tried to look offended, but he couldn’t cover the grin that was itching to get out.

 

“Whatever, just eat your damn burger, Iero.”

 

Frank laughed and started eating, doing as he was told. They ate in silence for a little bit, until Frank got bored of it, and grabbed the TV remote.

 

“Oh, go to 34, they’re showing Dawn of the Dead again,” Gerard said, bumping Frank’s shoulder. He nodded and changed the channel, curling up on the couch again. He wrapped his arms around his legs, and rested his chin on his knees.

 

He finished his burger and went back to thinking. Gerard leaned back on the couch beside him as well, then leaned into his side. Frank could feel the warmth from his body seeping through two layers of clothing and into his skin.

 

“What’s wrong?” Gerard paused for a moment, face screwing up. “Besides the obvious.”

 

Frank chuckled gently, unraveling a little from his ball of anger and sadness to let Gerard in. He rested his head on Gerard’s arm, which had been haphazardly thrown over the back of the couch.  

 

“I’m angry, and a little scared because I’m actually thinking of doing it, of running away. My parents obviously don’t want me, and when I’m around you and Mikey, I feel like I’m actually okay, you know?” Frank sighed as Gerard rested his head against Franks shoulder.

 

“I don’t feel so fucked up, or maybe I feel more fucked up, but being around people who are just as fucked up as me probably helps.” He paused, frowning at his own choice of words. “Sorry.”

 

Gerard scoffed, shrugging, because he knew he was a pretty different type of person.

 

“You’re not messed up, Frankie. You’re you, there’s nothing wrong with being wired a little differently. It makes you more interesting than everyone else I’ve met. Besides Mikey, of course, but he doesn’t count.” Frank frowned, and couldn’t really help himself from pulling Gerard closer, hiding in his shoulder as the thoughts that had been crowding his head for the past hour spilled out.

 

“Then why don’t my parents care? If I’m so goddamn special, what did I do to cause them to ignore me?” Frank asked, his voice cracking a bit. He instantly hated himself for spilling his problems onto Gerard, but there was no way he could take back his words now that they were out there.

 

“Because your parents are fuckheads who can’t see when they’ve got something special, but I can see. I know how amazing you are,” Gerard said, hand working its way around Franks shoulder, and resting on the back of his neck, rubbing softly.

 

“I don’t feel too fucking special. I feel like a fuck up.”

 

“Hey!” Gerard pulled back from Frank and grasped the sides of his face, forcing Frank to look into his eyes. “You’re not a fuck up, or maybe we’re both fuck ups, but at least we have each other, okay? It doesn’t matter, though, because fuck ups keep the world spinning.”

 

Gerard let go of Frank’s face, pulling him into a hug.

 

Frank was slightly grateful for that, because he had a huge urge to push forward out of Gerard’s grip, and kiss him, but he had no idea if his affections would be returned. He knew Gerard didn’t really care about gender, but he didn’t want to fuck up his friendship, and why the hell was he thinking about this now of all times?

 

“You’re not a fuck up, Frank.” Gerard repeated, soothingly rubbing his hand on Franks back. He felt so weak, sitting there, close to tears. Most teenagers wouldn’t care if their parents ignored them; they’d probably be happy, so why did it matter to him so much?

 

Once he seemed to calm down, Gerard pulled away, looking unsure of something. Frank nudged him, trying to encourage him to talk about it.

 

“This is such a bad time for this…” Gerard sighed with a faint chuckle. Frank continued staring at him, immensely confused. “I feel like you need some, well, hopefully good news.”

 

Gerard chuckled again, nerves obviously getting to him, twisting his hands around in his lap. Frank slowly began to understand what he was trying to say, figuring out his body language fairly easily.

 

“Look, I have this thing where sometimes I think that people like me a lot more than they actually do, because I like them so much. So please don’t be angry with me if you don’t actually, well-” Gerard cut himself off, pushing forward a bit, and pressing his lips against Franks’.

 

There weren’t fireworks, it wasn’t an ‘intense battle of mouths and tongues’ or whatever, it was a simple kiss between two scared and inexperienced teenagers.

 

But to Frank, it was the best thing that ever happened to him. His body felt warm, and everything that had ever wronged him was gone from his mind. He was soaring high above comprehensive thinking.

 

But what goes up, must come down, and Frank's parents decided to start giving a shit at that moment, arriving home and pushing open the door. Frank didn’t even hear the door open, but Gerard sure did, pulling away.

 

“Mr. Iero!” Gerard was able to get out before Frank’s father had grabbed him by the back of his hoodie, and dragging him towards the door.

 

“You won’t be seeing Frank anymore.” His dad was glaring daggers at Gerard, then slammed the door in his face. Frank, still completely lost to the world because Gerard had kissed him, was soon pulled back to earth by his parents glaring at him, and trying to get his attention.

 

“Frank, what the fuck was that?” His father asked harshly, to which Frank responded with a confused noise.

 

“I told you guys like, half a year ago that I was gay. Why is this such a surprise?” He asked, and his father took a step back.

 

“No son of mine is a fucking faggot,” he hissed, still glaring at Frank. “You are to be locked in your room until we find a way to fix you-”

 

“I’m fine, though,” Frank mumbled. He felt better than fine, he felt amazing.

 

“I always knew there was something wrong with you, always going to that fairy’s house; we barely ever see you.”

 

“I’m okay, trust me, dad,” Frank said a little louder this time, blood beginning to boil.

 

“If I had known what you had been doing over there, I would have stopped it a long time ago. He turned you gay, it’s always the artsy types-”

 

Frank was fed up.

 

“I’M FUCKING FINE!” He yelled, standing from his seat on the couch. His hands clenched at his sides. His mother gave him a bewildered look, and Frank took off. He couldn’t be in the same room as… them. He didn’t even want to be in the same town.

 

He raced to his room and started filling his bag with as much clothing he could grab. Casting a glance over his pile of CDs, he frowned, before trying to pick ten he could survive on until he could buy more. He grabbed up his saved up cash from his desk, and threw the bag onto his back just as there was a loud thumping at the door.

 

Time’s up, Frank thought to himself, and threw open the window, thankful for a ground floor bedroom. He heard the door to his room slam open just as he dropped to his feet below the window, and began to run.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Frank’s energy had been sapped at the discovery that his parents really _didn’t_ care about him, hadn’t even listened to him when he came out, though he had been preparing his words since the previous months.

 

All he knew now was that he and Gerard had to get away. As he raced through the streets to Mikey and Gerard, he was going over in his head all the places he could go, but nothing in his mind jumped out. He wouldn’t go to a runaway shelter; Frank had too much respect for himself and Gerard. Plus, that would be the first place his parents would check if they actually gave a shit.

 

Maybe they would go to New York. Gerard always talked about wanting to live there. There was always a band playing there too, which made the city all the more appealing to Frank as well. Plus, there were plenty of sleazy people there that would hire Frank, who was young and had no experience in anything.

 

Eventually he reached the door, completely out of breath as he almost collapsed on the steps. He pounded on the door with a heavy hand, until it opened to show Mikey.

 

“Mikey! Where’s Gerard? I need to talk to him, right now!” Frank almost yelled, but managed to keep his voice somewhat calm, even under the intense panic he felt rushing through him.

 

“He’s not home yet, said he was going to your place.”

 

“Fuck me!” Frank _did_ yell this time, and Mikey looked like he was biting his tongue, and trying to hold back a snarky remark, which Frank politely ignored. “He was at my house, until my parents came home, and went all Rapunzel on my ass!”

 

“Frank? Is this is why you ran right past me? To get to my own house before me, and tell Mikey all the good shit?” Gerard’s voice came from behind Frank, which caused a Scooby-Doo like reaction from Frank, who all in one moment had a heart attack, shit himself, and almost jumped into Mikey’s arms.

 

“God fucking damn it, I hate it when you do that!” Frank snapped, turning back to Gerard. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

 

“Wait, slow down and tell me in full what the fuck is happening, because you’re not abducting Gerard unless I know where you’re taking him, and why,” Mikey bit out, and Gerard rolled his eyes slightly.

 

“Franks parents are overreacting, and in turn, Frank is doing the same. Let’s get inside, and I’ll tell you more,” Gerard told Mikey, and started ushering both of them into the house, his hand on the small of Franks back, which at any other time probably would have set off a nuclear warhead of teenage hormones, but for now Frank was in freak out mode, and didn’t want to waste any brain or body power over anything besides getting the three of them the fuck out of town, as somehow the danger had now stretched to Mikey as well.

 

Once they had all settled down, Gerard retold the entire story to Mikey, and increasingly grew red as he told him about the kiss, quickly glossing over it. Frank chimed in when Gerard finished his side of the story.

 

“They told me they were going to figure out what to do with me, and I know enough about them to know they were going to send me away to some straight camp bullshit, and I can’t do that, so I came here. I guess what I’m trying to say is, would you both run away with me?”

 

“Wait a second. Why exactly do we have to run away? Why can’t we just stay here?” Mikey asked, and Frank rolled his eyes, unable to sit still in his chair as he bounced up and down a little, impatient.

 

“Because my parents are pissed off, and they will search for me. This will be the first place they’ll look,” he explained, before launching into his explanation as to why he thought New York would be the best place for them. It didn’t take much convincing, as Gerard's eyes lit up at the mention of New York, and Mikey would do basically anything Gerard wanted.

 

They had a longer time to prepare here, and Mikey insisted on bringing all of his CDs, which Frank was grateful for, since he had only managed to grab a few. Still, the case was fucking heavy.

 

They were out of town by ten, Gerard driving, Frank and Mikey huddled in the back and arguing which CD to play first.

 

Frank felt too excited, it felt like he was just going on a road trip with friends, and not running away from home. The fact that they had called Donna to tell her Gerard and Mikey were moving from the apartment they had been renting, made it seem even more like a road trip.

 

It only took them two hours to get to New York from Jersey, and find a motel that would only charge thirty-nine bucks for the night. After paying for the motel, Gerard counted up the money that they had. Sighing once he got to the final amount, he handed back the cash to each of them.

 

“Seven hundred and eighty-three dollars; not enough to rent an apartment. Even a shitty one-room,” Gerard said, frowning at the bedspread, and picking at a loose thread. The room was enough to suffice, with two beds. Gerard and Mikey slept in the same bed all the time, so that didn’t matter too much.

 

“Maybe we can stay here until we get enough money?” Frank suggested slowly, as even Mikey was looking a little stressed, which caused alarm bells to ring through Frank’s head. If Mikey was stressed, Frank knew that they couldn’t survive here. “We’ll find jobs in the morning. I don’t think it will look good on us if we walk in at midnight for a job. We can do it, guys. I know we can.”

 

He knew he sounded like the too happy, peppy girl in a shitty teen movie, but with a look at Mikey and Gerard's faces, maybe they needed the peppy chick.

 

The next morning, Frank’s mind was racing with all the different things he needed to do to make it possible to live here. He knew that he and Mikey both still needed schooling, even if they didn’t want to, and obviously they needed a place to live, along with food. Gerard would need new pencils soon enough as well, as drawing was basically his lifeline. Frank could survive without a guitar for a couple months.  

 

Voicing his concerns at breakfast, when they had found a cheap coffee shop, Mikey glanced towards the front counter, where a large sign was proclaiming ‘HELP WANTED’.

 

“They’d probably hire you and me, and then Gerard can probably sell his comics to a shop somewhere.” At the suggestion, Gerard pulled a face, setting his mug onto the table and wrapping his ink stained fingers around it for the warmth.

 

“Mikey, you know that they’re not done yet!” He exclaimed, then frowned into the coffee mug, where the liquid was beginning to cool.

 

“Then hurry it up, or get a job like me and Frank,” Mikey replied calmly, sipping his own coffee with an appreciative nod. Frank wasn’t exactly enthused about the idea of working at a coffee shop, but it seemed like a good place to start his working life, he thought as he took a large bite of his bagel.

 

Plus, with a look at the obviously 13 year old girl behind the counter, he didn’t think they did much background checking, and really fucking needed workers.

 

So, once Mikey and Frank had both finished their bagels and coffee, they walked up to the counter, Frank asked the girl about the sign.

 

“Oh yeah, one second. Pete will be right out.” She replied after a moment of confused silence, a look of realization dawning on her face, before jogging into the back room, tugging nervously at the studs in her ears. Too peppy for… Frank glanced up at the clock and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Okay, maybe it was normal for noon, for normal people. But fuck normality.

 

A few minutes later, Frank was sitting in a dim room, staring at who he assumed was Pete, who was staring back equally as hard. Frank quirked an eyebrow after a moment, and finally Pete spoke.

 

“Name, age, and how much you wanna make in a hour,” he said stiffly, still sizing Frank up.

 

“Frank Iero, 16, about… ten bucks, I guess?”

 

“Okay, Frank Iero, how many hours can you work a week?”

 

“Whenever you can book me, I don’t have much else to do,” Frank itched at the back of his head as Pete raised a brow, but he still nodded, satisfied.

 

“Any references from previous jobs?” Frank shook his head, and Pete slid him a sheet of paper across the table serving as a desk. “Write your number there, and I’ll call you.”

 

Frank hesitated, biting his tongue, knowing his phone would be cut off soon.

 

“I don’t have a phone at the moment.”

 

“Put your home phone or parents number down then, I don’t know kid, something-” With a look at Frank’s face, Pete understood, and Frank knew the chances of his getting a job were slipping through his fingers in front of his own eyes.

 

“The guy after me is going to say the same thing, and we both really need this job, and we can be in almost constantly for less than eight an hour, and Mikey makes really fucking good coffee, I swear, let us work for you one day and we’ll show you how hard we’ll work, I promise,” Frank knew he was clutching at straws, and shut his mouth, gripping the armrests tightly. Pete closed his eyes for a minute and Frank felt his breakfast churning in his stomach. There was no way they were getting this job, not anymore.

 

“Fine, one day, and I get to try a cup of coffee each of you made before you serve anyone. Tell the other guy, Mikey, right? He’s got the job too, somewhat. You’re working for nine bucks an hour, starting now,” Frank literally couldn’t stop himself from saying thank you as much as he could until he was shooed out of the room with a threat on his new job.

 

Pete followed him out, holding two aprons, and telling the girl to serve the rest of the people in line, then take the rest of the day off. He handed the aprons to Frank with a nod.

 

The first day of work wasn’t too difficult, Frank clearing the tables quickly as Mikey busted out one next to godly coffee after another. Gerard had gone back to the motel once he finished his coffee, and walked in a couple hours later, sighing with resignation.

 

“I got a job at the record store down the street,” Gerard said when Frank stopped by his table to grab an empty plate.

 

“That’s great, Gerard! When do you start?” Frank asked, holding the tray of dirty dishes carefully, trying to look busy but also focused on what Gerard was saying.

 

“Tomorrow at 7, and I work until 3, then close,” Gerard frowned slightly, shrugging. “He didn’t seem to care much about how the shop was run, as long as it brings in cash.”

 

Frank nodded quickly before Gerard asked for a coffee. He hurried back behind the counter, dropping off the dishes, and reciting part of Gerard’s order until he was cut off, because Mikey already knew what his brother wanted.

 

Frank dropped the coffee off on his next trip to a newly emptied table, setting the black and sugar filled coffee in front of him with a bright smile.

 

When Gerard looked up at him though, he looked terrified. He was so scared, and not even for himself. Frank knew him well enough that his fear was for his little brother. His gaze made Frank stop in his tracks, and grasp Gerard’s hand tightly in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture, nodding.

 

“I know this is going to be hard for a bit, and I’m so sorry for dragging you both out here. It was so stupid of me, but I promise that I’ll keep you and Mikey safe.”

 

Gerard forced a smile and nodded.

 

“I know you will, Frank, but I’m scared for you. I mean, you’re not that big of a guy, and I don’t want you ending up getting hurt out here, and what happens when you have one of those days?” Frank sighed, seeing Gerard’s point, but deciding to ignore it, shaking his head.

 

“I know I’m small, but I’m big enough to protect myself and both of you. I promise, we can do this... but if you want to go back to Jersey with Mikey, I won’t stop you. I’ll be okay on my own.” Gerard rolled his eyes, shoving the seemingly always greasy black hair that was in his eyes out of the way.

 

“I’d never be able to leave you Frank, I love you too much for that. Now get back to work, you slacker.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Mikey and Frank got back to the motel room that night, they were both thoroughly exhausted, and smelt strongly of coffee. Frank was so tired, he barely even noticed a heavy feeling starting in his chest, tugging on his heart.

 

Gerard was lying on the brothers’ bed, watching a late night monster movie he found on the motel’s crappy cable. Frank stomped into the room and, not really caring what Mikey thought, flopped onto the bed next to him, curling up against his side with his head resting on Gerard’s chest.

 

“Holy fuck. That was a long day.” Frank knew that he sounded whiny, but he had a reasonable excuse. He never really had a job before, so he was allowed to complain a bit on his first day.

 

Gerard’s hand quickly settled in Franks hair, gently rubbing at his head, soothing him. Mikey shoved his side a bit, forcing both Frank and Gerard to shuffle over to make room for him. If Frank took the advantage of the movement to press himself closer to Gerard, no one would really noticed or said anything.

 

They were all silent for a long time, watching the movie with hazy eyes. Frank could feel himself dropping off into dreamland, but the rational part of his brain knew that he had to move back to his own bed. When he tried to sit up to move though, after basking in the comfort of Gerard for a minute, Mikey shot him a glare that kept him rooted to the spot.

 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Gerard asked curiously, tugging Frank back to his former spot, returning to running his hand through Franks hair.

 

“To my own bed. if I stay here I’m gonna end up passing out on you,” Frank replied carefully and simply, trying to make sure that he didn’t stumble over his words, as his mouth was barely functioning at this time. He wasn’t sure if he was overtired, or just completely at ease besides the pain in his chest, but he didn’t argue when both Mikey and Gerard firmly told him that he was staying.

 

The next morning he woke up snugly fit under a pile of Way limbs. He glanced over at Gerard’s phone, on which they had set with an alarm for five thirty. It was now blaring music loudly. Frank couldn’t really identify what band it was in his groggy state, and poked a bit at the arm that was thrown over him, before trying desperately to hold back a wide, and very loud, yawn.

 

He was still tired, arms aching slightly from the amount of heavy dishes he had been trucking back and forth, and the feeling in his chest still there. It wasn’t a physical pain, it was more just a feeling that his entire chest was caving in, and there was nothing physically wrong with him. His mind was playing tricks, he knew this, and was practiced in the skill of shaking it off and smiling like there was nothing wrong with him.

 

Frank finally got annoyed of the song repeating, and poked at Gerard’s stomach, which was easily reachable from where he was stuck. Jumping awake with a start, Gerard sent him a lovely catlike death stare, before groaning loudly and exaggerated, rolling over to grab his phone and turning off the alarm. He reached over to Mikey, whose head was poking annoying at Frank’s stomach, and ruffling his hair in a fashion that seemed rudely rough, but Frank knew that Mikey was a heavy sleeper, and that Gerard would never hurt him on purpose.

 

He finally was able to pull himself out of the bundle of warmth, pleased that it was summer and the motel room wasn’t cold. Frank called first dibs on the shower almost as soon as his feet touched the ground, and ran into the bathroom after grabbing his small bag of clothing.

 

Frank was standing in the shower, letting the hot water run over him and basking in the burning sensation, imagining that his body temperature was finally about hellfire warmth, joking to himself that his soul should be nice and comfortable in the familiar heat when he finally kicked it.

 

Then, the pain in his chest was demanding attention, spreading so that his legs felt weak, and it felt like his heart was literally being ripped apart and stomped on. His stomach was turning and head wasn’t quite on right, but he managed to stay standing, and threw off the slump he had found himself thrown into as he stepped out of the bathroom with a great burst of steam.

 

Frank had heard someone leave and come back while he was in the shower, and walked into the main room to be greeted with the wonderful smell of warm coffee.

 

“Oh, fucking thank God.”

 

“Well I’m not sure what I’ve got compared to God, but I’ll take the thanks,” Gerard piped up from his seat at the small table, sketchbook in front of him.

 

“I think you’re a bit like a coffee god,” Frank replied as he took the last cup that was waiting for him in the small portable container. He took a deep breath of the steam rising from the coffee. He hummed happily and sipped it, making a pleased noise. “Best fucking way to start a day.”

 

Mikey ducked into the bathroom and Frank felt his fake grin drop almost immediately. Gerard frowned as well, and gestured to the other chair, which Frank sat down in gratefully.

 

“Is it happening?” Gerard asked, holding his coffee close to his chest. The air conditioner came on full blast with a tinny whine just when Frank was about to start speaking, and he glared at it for a moment, before nodding.

 

“I’ll survive though. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. Plus, now I’ve got work to do to distract me.” Gerard shifted slightly, still frowning, clearly not believing Frank’s somewhat optimistic words.

 

“I don’t like it when you’re sad, because I know that I can’t do anything about it, no matter how hard I wish I could,” he said, and Frank shrugged slightly, reaching across the table littered with papers, and patting Gerards arm.

 

“I know, but love can’t fix me,” Frank replied as lightly as he could, and took another drink of the cooling coffee in his free hand. “I’m happy with the fact that even though you knew I’m messed up, you still chose to stay, and even ran away to New York with me.”

 

Gerard faked a nervous look, as if he were suddenly doubting how sane Frank really was, before he was unable to stop a quirk at the side of his mouth that gave away his act.

 

“We’re all pretty crazy in our own way, you know? Why would I want to leave?” He asked, before returning to the pages. “I wonder if Brian would mind if I brought these in to work on them when the shops empty.”

 

Frank assumed that Brian was Gerard’s boss and shrugged vaguely.

 

“Bring them to see. If anything, he’ll say no, and you can come by the coffee shop on your break, work on them there.” Frank said, and finished the coffee, tossing the cup into the trashcan. He broke the small silence that had fallen, and Gerard barely glanced up. “I miss my guitar.”

 

“Maybe your boss would let you practice, I saw a sign out front that they had live bands sometimes, so they probably have an extra guitar sitting around somewhere. Ask if you can play while the shop isn’t too busy, I don’t think he’d care too much,” ge suggested, and Frank nodded.

 

When they made it to work that day, Mikey was still complaining that Frank had used up all the hot water, and was ignored. Once he had started making coffees again though, he seemed to move on, or was just ignoring Frank in return, who was busy cleaning tables.

 

He noticed a couple people standing around a small stage towards the back of  the coffee shop, arguing about something with Pete. He saw an acoustic guitar in Pete's hands as well.

 

“Huh. Guess Gerard knows his shit.”

 

“Pardon?” The woman he had been serving asked, and Frank jumped as if he had been burned.

 

“Oh! Sorry miss, I was just talking out loud to myself.” The women smiled knowingly at him, and sipped the iced coffee he had handed her. Frank quickly dropped off the rest of the beverages he was holding on the tray, and hurried back behind the counter.

 

" _Stupid,_ ” said a faint thought at the back of his mind, and his shoulders seemed to slump without his approval. He swore softly before rubbing his temples. Mikey shot him a concerned look, but Frank shrugged it off.

 

“Bad day?” Mikey asked when Frank swung by him to grab the now filled tray of pastries that people had ordered. Frank nodded, but didn’t elaborate on it, and left the counter, dropping the treats off at their respective tables and booths.

 

He had surprisingly good luck with not dropping a tray so far, and really didn’t feel like dropping an apple tart on some hipster chicks shorts that revealed a healing flower tattoo on her thigh, but fate was a beautiful heartless bitch.

 

The girl jumped in surprise as the apple tart hit her leg, and sent Frank his second death glare of the day, the second not as pleasing as the first. Pete came rushing over, sweet talked the girl into not freaking out, and shook his head at Frank. He hurried away out of the way, and went back to serving other people.

 

Pete didn’t bring up the incident until Frank was cleaning up the tables that night before he headed back to the motel.

 

“You okay? I haven’t known you long enough to know if you’re just like this all the time, or if this is just a funk, but you don’t really seem like the kind of guy to drop a tart on the first girl you see,” Pete remarked, Frank nodding, staring at the table and rubbing it down, frowning at the coffee stain.

 

“Yeah, definitely not that type of guy,” he replied, chuckling softly at the wording, “I just got distracted by the guitar, and I haven’t been able to practice in a long time, and I was thinking of my old guitar, and then-”

 

“How good are you? At playing guitar, I mean,” Pete asked, sounding strangely hopeful.

 

“Pretty good, I guess. My dad taught me when I was like five,” Frank replied.

 

Pete nodded, seeming to ponder something. He got up and walked toward the small stage setup, and grabbed the guitar, handing it to Frank and ordering him to play. Frank thought for a moment, unsure what to play, nibbling at his bottom lip in nervousness. He twisted the idle melody he had been strumming randomly, into _Girlfriend In A Coma_ , which he had obviously learned for Gerard. He may not be in art school, but he still had the art school music taste.

 

Frank managed to play it without more than one or two fuck ups, and Pete was looking pleased when he finally finished, nerves jumping. He wasn’t shy about people watching him, but it was still awkward with one person staring at him, judging him for every finger misplacement.

 

Still, Pete looked pleased, and he nodded once before pulling his phone out. “I have a couple friends that have been wanting to play here, but don’t have a second guitar player yet. You can sight play, right?”

 

Frank nodded, and Pete went back to his phone.

 

“You’re going to play a couple shows with them to make up for the tart. Brendon will give you the music tomorrow.” Frank didn’t exactly feel like this was a punishment, but he obviously wasn't going to tell Pete that. “Brendon keeps trying to tell me that he can play guitar and sing, but I don’t want to put too much on him, plus the whole thing would look more put together if we have you playing.”

 

Frank knew that he also meant that he could blame Frank if he fucked up, and didn’t want that to happen to this Brendon guy.

 

Frank agreed though, because he still wanted to play, and then they were allowed to leave. Gerard was in the motel room before them, again, but was working on his comic, and didn’t really notice when they came in.

 

“I need to go for a walk,” Frank heard himself say, surprising even himself. Mikey gave him a weird look, but didn’t comment, and Gerard was too focused on his drawing to even hear him.

 

Frank quickly fled the stiflingly small room and started running. He knew this was a bad idea, running through a big, unknown city late at night, in a not so great neighborhood, when there were dark, rolling clouds with flashes of light in the distance, but he needed to get away from the only people left who cared about him, and break down.

 

If he stayed in the motel, he would end up freaking Mikey out, and Gerard would hate him for scaring his little brother, and they would go back to Jersey, and he would be alone, and probably die on the streets, and Frank wanted to scream until all of his problems just fucking stopped for a minute, and the growing feeling of sadness in his chest let him breath properly, and that he was normal for once.

 

But no, he was born to lose, and to fuck up literally everything that he cared about. Frank’s legs began to hurt a bit, so he turned down an alley, and let himself collapse against the brick wall. The coolness of the brick quickly went through the thin material of his t-shirt

 

“Fuck…” Frank said in a heavy breath, curling up on himself as he heard a loud crash of thunder above him. The weather was matching his mood perfectly, and he hated it. This wasn’t a fucking teen movie, no matter how much it sounded like it in Frank’s head. This was real life, this was _his_ life.


	4. Chapter 4

It was an hour later when Frank heard wet footsteps at the end of the alley, and he realized that it had started raining while he had been stuck, roaming in the darkest spots of his mind. His body felt frozen, though the rain was warm, and he was shaking a bit just from the thought of being that cold.

 

“Frank?” A vaguely familiar voice said, and it clicked in his brain after a few moments that it was Gerard.

 

“How long have I been gone?” Frank tried to say, his mouth slurring the words together. Either Gerard didn’t hear him, understand him, or was just ignoring him because he didn’t answer; just walked over and gently pulled Frank to his feet. He stumbled slightly, before flopping down onto Gerard’s shoulder, and tried to repeat himself, but Gerard hushed him quickly.

 

“You’re shaking like a leaf Frank, what the fuck?” Gerard asked sternly, obviously ignoring his own shaking hands. They were moving back towards the motel, though Frank’s legs still weren’t fully functioning.

 

“I can’t go back yet, I’ll scare Mikey because I’m breaking down. Don’t make me go back, I’ll scare him, and you’ll hate me and leave me, and then I’ll die because I can’t do anything fucking right.” Of course, Frank’s inner self hatred came tumbling out of his mouth the moment it started working properly again, and there was someone to listen.

 

Gerard, who didn’t seem particularly surprised at Frank’s words, glared at him for moment, before going back to focusing on walking/dragging Frank back to the motel.

 

“Did you leave because you knew that you were going to break down?” Gerard asked as he saw the sign for the motel down the street. He also saw a tiny figure standing in the light and peering down the street.

 

Fucking Mikey.

 

Frank didn’t answer Gerard’s question, because he knew that Gerard would just be more angry with him if he did. It was another two minutes of silence, as silent as it could be in pounding rain and rumbling thunder before they got back to the motel, and by then Frank’s legs were working again, if a little jumpy.

 

Mikey looked way too concerned, glasses splattered with raindrops and almost falling off his nose. Frank understood what they were trying to do, thinking the ground looked pretty comfortable as well.

 

A loud crash of thunder sounded as soon as Mikey opened his mouth to say something, causing all three of them to jump, then start towards the motel without any sort of communication besides Mikey gently slapping the back of Frank’s head, and saying something that sounded like ‘fucking idiot’. Frank wasn’t sure though.

 

His clothes were covered in mud. Frank was shoved into the bathroom with a command to get into the shower, leave his clothes in the running water, and change. He did as he was told, the pain in his chest being too much to argue through. It seemed to radiate heat, sucking it from his arms and legs, leaving them freezing, and his chest and lower back overheating, causing a strange feeling throughout the entirety of his body.

 

‘ _I’m never going to get better_ ,”’ he thought miserably, ‘ _Gerard is going to wait until it goes away, but I’m going to feel like this until I die, and he’s going to leave me._ ’

 

His thoughts didn’t get any better as he tugged on a pair of sweatpants he wasn’t even sure was his, not bothering with the shirt also waiting for him, chest still overheating too much.

 

In his mind, he had himself convinced that even Gerard kissing him meant nothing, that Gerard didn’t care about him at all. He knew that Gerard and Mikey wanted to leave, but didn’t out of pity for Frank.

 

“You can both go,” was the first thing out of Frank’s mouth as he walked out of the bathroom. “I’ll get my own room, and you guys can go back to Jersey. You don’t have to stay, I know you don’t want to.”

 

Mikey was looking at Frank with a confused expression, the one on Gerard’s face even more so.

 

“Frank, what are you talking about? We want to stay,” Mikey said, his head comically tilted to the side.

 

“You’re lying,” Frank said, though he deflated slightly, courage wearing down slowly. Mikey shook his head, squishing the last bit of it he had left. “No one actually wants to be around me. Not my parents, not normal people-”

 

“I’m offended. You think that we’re normal people, Frank?” Gerard asked from the table where all the papers had been tidied up and tucked away, except for one, where Frank could see a small comic which he was obviously drawing for Mikey.

 

He shrugged in response, and flopped down onto one of the beds with a small huff.

 

“Sorry…” Frank mumbled into the blankets, and Gerard walked over, leaving the comic sitting on the table, and sat near Frank’s head.

 

None of them said anything, just sitting in silence for a bit, letting Frank think. His mind wasn’t really up to the whole figuring out that ‘people actually cared about him’ thing right now. All it was really thinking about was how worthless Frank was, how stupid he had been. It was his own damn fault his parents ignored him, his fault that eventually he was going to fuck up Gerard and his… whatever they had going on, his fault when Mikey found out how much he actually hated himself.

 

Gerard knew most of what was going through Frank’s mind right now, but really had no idea how to help, or even if Frank wanted it. So, he just let Frank lay for a bit, eventually moving him until his head was in Gerard’s lap, and gently running his hands through his hair. Mikey was just silently watching them, which Gerard had to admit, was a little creepy, but Mikey probably felt as scared, and useless as Gerard, if not more.

 

Both of them knew that saying anything to Frank probably would just make him feel worse, so eventually Mikey just laid down on the space next to Frank, and attempted to fall asleep.

 

Frank’s sleep was fitful, and didn’t provide much rest, in all honesty, but he did wake up generally feeling better about himself, if anything. The feeling in his chest wasn’t really gone, he knew that it would stay there for a long time, possibly forever, but he would pull through, he had to.


	5. Chapter 5

Frank met Brendon at work that day, and quickly discovered he was a very lighthearted sort of person. He handed him a couple sheets of music and a seemingly endless amount of ‘thank you’s and bright smiles. Frank met up with the other two band members, Spencer, who played drums, and Ryan, who played guitar, which he had to admit, confused him at first, but once Frank looked over the music for himself, he slowly realized that, they did in fact need two guitarists for most of the songs they had picked out.

 

They played for a bit together, and received hearty applause from the two people who were actually watching, who were Pete and Mikey.

 

Frank put down the guitar carefully, casting a longing glance at it before he left the small stage, and walked over to Mikey, who was holding his apron for him.

 

“You did good,” Mikey said as he tugged the apron on over his head, smiling brightly at him.

 

“Thanks, Mikey,” he replied, and quickly got back to working his regular job. Sure, Frank had felt a little stiff up there, nervous that no one would like the songs, or worse, hated him, but that had slowly eased away over time.

 

He hadn’t really expected to be paid, considering that it was supposed to be a punishment, but apparently Brendon had somehow convinced Pete that he deserved it, and Frank wasn’t really going to question more money.

 

By the end of the month, with Frank playing with different bands Pete knew that dropped by, Gerard finishing and sending his first issue of his comic to a small comic company, who agreed to publish it, and Mikey being fantastic at making coffee and earning more tips in one day than both Frank and Gerard did in a week, they had enough money to pay for a small shitty apartment.

 

It only had one bedroom, but that didn’t really matter much to any of them, as they would all sleep in the same bed more often than not. They had enough left over after paying the motel to buy a bed big enough for all three of them, and even a guitar for Frank to practice on, deeming it necessary if he was going to continue playing with the bands who came into the shop and requested another guitarist.

 

Other than those items, they didn’t have much. A shitty kitchen set, a ratty couch from the previous tenants, and a broken tv. But, the place had heat, hot water, and light. Really, that’s all they needed.

 

Frank still wasn’t certain if the Ways even wanted to be there, but didn’t bring it up as often anymore, as they were slowly showing him that they actually did. Gerard was ecstatic over them having their own place again, even if said place was really fucking shitty.

 

“It’s like we’re finally making a life for ourselves here!” Gerard exclaimed as Mikey was stacking his CDs by some order in his mind. “Things are really looking up.”

 

Frank grinned in response, before he looked over the couch, and his smile quickly flipped.

 

“That looks fucking gross,” Frank commented, shaking his head. Gerard glanced over at it, nodding quickly and grimacing.

 

“We could buy something to clean it, I think we have enough…” With a look at Frank and Mikey’s faces, Gerard nodded again. “Yeah, I didn’t really want to either. We’ll buy a new couch, but it’s gotta be cheap if we’re going to eat for the next two, three weeks.”

 

Frank shrugged, and went back to inspecting the rest of the apartment. It was nice, for three runaways.

 

Gerard was right when he said it was as if they were making a life for themselves in New York, even Frank’s depression had eased back a bit, letting him have more good days than bad. He had stopped worrying about his parents searching for him, as it was becoming obvious that they weren’t.

 

But, they only had to pay five hundred dollars a month for the apartment after the original down payment, and there was apparently co-manager of the shop, though neither Mikey nor Frank remembered being informed of this.

 

They wouldn’t be called into work as often, as Patrick, the co-manager, had convinced Pete that they need more employees. He often worked at the counter at random times as well, though he wasn’t employed to do so. He seemed like a nice guy, and always had a kind word and a smile for both of them, so Frank wasn’t going to say anything.

 

The first night in the new apartment was strange, and really goddamn hot. But, even through the stifling heat, they all still huddled together after hearing a woman screaming outside on the street.

 

Mikey had almost gone to help her, but Gerard was quick in convincing him that they really wouldn’t be able to do anything, and none of their cell phones were connected anymore, and Frank had taken the chip out of it so his parents couldn’t track them down.

 

So, they just laid there, listening until there was the sirens of ambulance. Once the night grew silent again, the three of them found it somewhat easy to fall asleep, though it was disturbed.

 

Frank woke at dawn and wasn’t able to fall back asleep, so he crawled out of the bed carefully, and walked out of the room.

 

He ended up in the living room, looking at his phone, which really only served as a watch now, and sighed. It was five in the morning, and he was tired, but sleep wouldn’t come for him anymore.

 

Frank looked out the window, watching down on the street. It was quiet now, the drug addicts too high to cause much trouble by this time, and the people who just couldn’t afford better living conditions weren’t awake yet.

 

He felt like the only one alive at that moment, and then turned his thoughts to a debate on whether he should go get coffee.

 

It was too early, and it would be cold by the time Mikey and Gerard got up, if they weren’t roused by the scent of it. Frank decided to take a shower instead, pleased with the cold water. The air of the apartment was still shockingly hot, but none of them really wanted to open a window, paranoia that someone would take their cds, the only valuable thing they had left.

 

When he got out of the shower, it was around 5:50, and he went to go get Gerard and Mikey coffee. The shop was only about five minutes away, so he should get back by the time they woke up, if not before.

 

He was waiting in line at the coffee shop, listening to the sounds of conversations around him. The shop had a small tv that sat on the counter most days, if it wasn’t back in Pete’s ‘office’, and it was playing a morning news report.

 

Frank glanced up when he heard his name, and then Gerard and Mikey’s listed off. On the screen, there was a year old picture of him, with the words ‘kidnapped’ on the bottom of the picture.

 

Frank kept watching as photos of both Gerard and Mikey popped up, replacing Frank’s.

 

“These are the two boys who have been accused of kidnapping sixteen year old Frank Iero from his home late last month. Gerard Way, eighteen, and Michael Way, sixteen, both went missing from their home on the same night as Frank Iero, and many are convinced that they have him in their custody.”

 

Frank felt panic building in his head as the reported listed off the phone numbers of the Jersey police and his parents home phone.

 

“If you have seen any of these boys, we urge you to call either of these numbers.” A second later, his parents were on the screen, not looking that upset that their only child was gone. Frank wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

 

“We were just having a quiet night in, and Frankie had just gone to go to bed, when I heard a scuffle. By the time we got to his room, he was gone!” His mother said, retelling a completely fucked up version of what actually happened. His father looked like he was ready to burst with more homophobic comments about Gerard, but the camera switched back to the newscaster when he opened his mouth to spew hatred.

 

Frank ordered his coffees from a skeptical looking Patrick, who tried to ask about the news report, but with a look from Frank, he knew it was the wrong time. He hid his face as he ducked out of the coffee shop, panic rushing through him, heart pounding.


	6. Chapter 6

Frank got back to the apartment two minutes early, but couldn’t wait for the alarm to go off. He opened the door and less then gently shook the Way brothers awake, once he had placed the coffees on the floor.

 

“They think you two kidnapped me!” Frank yelled, unable to keep his voice to a normal noise level, not caring who he woke up. “There was a fucking news report at the coffee shop! Patrick saw it, and is going to call. You two are going to go to jail, and I’m going to that house again to die!”

 

Gerard was sitting up slowly, eyes bleary and not really focusing on anything.

 

Frank shoved the coffee into his hands, his own shaking too violently to hold them still after picking them back up. Gerard eagerly took his cup with a wide, sloppy, grin. Mikey was still asleep, and didn’t really move much, but as soon as he smelled Gerard’s coffee, he sat up as well, reaching out for his own.

 

“Patrick’s not going to do anything, Frank. He’s too nice for that. He’ll at least get the full story first,” Mikey said once Frank had retold what happened for the second time. “Pete might call you into his office to talk to you about it, but that’s the most they’ll do if you ask them not to tell. Plus, maybe we can call the news… whatever it’s called, and get them to take the thing off air.”

Frank frowned, shaking his head.

 

“Aren’t you a little fucking alarmed by any of this?! You both could go to jail, and it would be my god damned fault!”

 

“We’ll be fine Frank, calm down.”

 

“Calm down?! How the fuck am I supposed to calm down when my face is being put on televisions all over this town, with my two best and only friends being accused of kidnapping me!” Frank turned toward Gerard, waiting for him to say something, as he had been silent this entire time.

 

“I think…” Gerard started slowly, holding his coffee close as if it were a security blanket. “I think we should just ask your boss for help. He seems like a good guy, and if you explain the situation correctly, he might help us. Maybe play on the homophobic angle a bit, if he really does have a thing with the Patrick guy.”

 

Gerard sipped from his coffee after he finished his sentence, nodding slowly, and Frank sighed.

 

“But what if he doesn’t help? What if he calls my parents without even letting me talk? What if he’s already called?” Frank said weakly, sitting down on the bed and putting his head into his hands.

  
  


“Frank, you know Pete’s been suspicious of us being runaways since we got the fucking jobs. He’s going to let you explain,” Mikey said with an air of finality, took one last sip of the little coffee that was left in his cup, and tossed it into the black garbage bag sitting by the doorway.

 

Frank gave up trying to get either of them the least bit concerned. He followed them out the front door when they finally both pulled themselves out of bed and changed clothes, hiding his face with his sweatshirt hood, even though he was boiling.

 

Mikey walked in front of Frank and Gerard, looking about him in a somewhat interested but not wanting to be caught being curious fashion. Gerard’s hand was grasping Frank’s, and he squeezed slightly. “Don’t worry too much, okay? We’ll figure everything out, I promise.”

 

“You can't promise that though. None of us know what’s going to happen. Fuck, I could get hit by a car, you two would be pegged as murderers and go to jail because I fucked up,” Frank replied, Gerard’s words doing nothing to sooth him.

 

“I’m terrified because I’m known to fuck up a lot, and now if I mess up, my only friends go to jail.” Gerard was frowning, and Frank winced. He didn’t want to upset Gerard, he just wanted him to realize how fucked they were.

 

“We can try though. That’s all we can do, is try,” Frank said, and squeezed Gerard’s hand.

 

They arrived at the coffee shop, and Frank was called into Pete's ‘office’ as Gerard entered the queue for his second coffee before he left to head to work. They waved goodbye to each other, and Frank went into the room, fear striking in his heart.

 

“Frank, have a seat,” Pete said from behind an actual desk, sounding way too formal. Frank had no fucking when the desk got there though, and stared at it for a minute before actually sitting. “Patrick told me about the uh… news report, about you, Mikey, and that Gerard kid.”

 

“It isn’t like how they said it, Pete.”

 

“I had the notion, but I’m kind of stuck here on what to do. On one hand, you could be lying because Mikey’s right out there, and on the other hand, it does seem like you ran away, but both of them should make me call the police and send you home.”

 

“I really would appreciate if you don’t, I mean _really_ appreciate it. I could explain why I ran away, if that would convince you how bad it would be if you called?” Frank paused to allow Pete to refuse if he was going to, which he didn’t.

 

“Okay, so even though they’re pretending they do, my parents barely even know I exist. The night I ran away, they were out to dinner and didn’t even call to let me know, so I wasn’t going to be able to eat that night. Then, Gerard was there with veggie burgers, and we ate those while watching TV.” Pete was looking a little confused by the story, but Frank wasn’t going to take time to clarify small details.

 

“Before I say the next part, let me just throw in a bit of background information. I had come out to my parents half a year before all this, but apparently they didn’t listen or ignored me, because Gerard and I were kissing when they walked in that night. My dad grabbed Gerard and threw him out of the house, and it turned out that he’s extremely homophobic.”

 

Pete straightened at this, raising an eyebrow with a frown clear on his face, which Frank was really hoping was about his dad being homophobic, and not Frank being gay, though he was pretty sure it was the homophobic dad.

 

“So he started yelling about how no son of his was a fairy, and how Gerard made me gay, and threatening to send me off to a gay to straight camp bullshit, so I ran away with Gerard and his brother. Now you know the whole truth.” Pete was quiet for a bit, hand still resting on his cellphone, which was causing Frank major anxiety.

 

“I’m okay, I promise. We bought an apartment a couple blocks away from here, and we’re making a living for ourselves,” Frank said after another couple moments of terrified silence.

 

“Frank, how old is Gerard?”

 

“Eighteen.”

 

“And he’s in charge of you _and_ Mikey.”

 

Frank nodded, unsure why Pete was asking this. He thought it was pretty clear. “And he works… Where?”

 

“The record store down the street. I don’t know what it’s called.”

 

Pete nodded as if this were important information, and finally lifted his hand from his phone.

 

“I won’t call your parents, because they seem like real jackasses, but you have to promise me something.”

 

Frank nodded eagerly, though he had no idea what he was agreeing to.

 

“If you need _anything_ , you let me or Patrick know, okay? We won’t be able to do much to help ourselves, but we can call around to see if there is anyone we know who can.”

 

Frank’s chest felt like it was going to burst with how thankful he was to Pete, and he nodded again.

 

“I mean it, Frank!” Pete said as Frank got up to get back to work, and he paused for a moment, thinking over Pete’s words.

 

“Anything?” After a confirming nod from Pete, he continued, “Do you know anyone that is giving away or selling for cheap a couch or air conditioner?”

 

Needless to say, Gerard was at least a little surprised when Frank walked in the door that night with an air conditioner in his hands, Mikey and Pete following with a dirty--but better than their present--couch between the two of them.

 

“What’s this?” Gerard asked, pulling Frank to the side while Mikey and Pete were positioning the couch.

 

“Pete’s not calling my parents, and basically, he and Patrick are our sugar daddies.” Gerard stifled a laugh, clapping a hand over his mouth as he stared at Frank.

 

“What the fuck did you do, Iero?” He asked once he had managed to compose himself.

 

“I told him that my dad is a homophobic asshole, and he offered to help us out. Speaking of help, this thing is fucking heavy,” Frank nodded down at the air conditioner, Gerard barking out one last burst of laughter, and they got to work at setting it up in the window. Neither of them had any fucking clue how, but they got it running, and soon there was cold air filtering into the small apartment.

 

Pete was standing in the doorway to the kitchen where Mikey was getting him a glass of water.

 

“You sure you guys will be okay here?” He asked after he guzzled over half the glass down in one sip.

 

“We’re fine, really. Besides the murder last night, it’s been positively peachy.” At the mention of the- what Frank and Mikey had assumed was- murder, Pete paled, obviously misunderstanding Frank’s sarcasm.

 

“I’m sure she was fine,” Mikey reassured from behind Pete, though he was glaring over his shoulder at Frank for bringing it up.

 

It took a little while to get Pete off the subject of the murder, Gerard eventually getting him onto the topic of music, and what bands they liked. They talked about different artists while Mikey and Frank sat in front of the air conditioner, basking in the cold air.

 

“So, are the other two beds waiting to be brought up or something?” Pete asked during a lull in the conversation, having noticed that there was only one bed in the entire apartment.

 

“Oh no, we don’t need more than one,” Frank carelessly replied. “The one is big enough for all three of us, with Mikey being the fucking twig he is.”

 

“Shut the hell up, shortcake.”

 

“Whoa, breaking out the pastry profanity, watch out.”

 

Mikey shoved him, rolling his eyes, and went back to staring aimlessly out the window.

 

“So you all sleep in one bed? What if one of you gets sick?”

 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Isn’t it getting late, Pete? You don’t want to be out past sunset in this neighborhood,” Mikey replied without glancing back, and after many promises to stay out of trouble and indoors until the morning, Pete was gone.

 

Gerard was staring at the door for a couple minutes after he left, and Frank turned to stare at him.

 

“Well then,” was all Gerard said before walking over to the window and sitting beside him, pulling Frank over to lean on his shoulder. Frank hummed his response to the silence, feeling at ease for the first time in a long time.

 

“That went a lot better than I expected,” Mikey said, breaking the peaceful silence that had falling on the small group. Frank looked over at him with a scowl.

 

“You seemed pretty confident in it this morning,” Frank replied, somewhat teasing and a bit more than a little pissed off. Mikey shrugged, rolling his eyes.

 

“I think telling you how worried I was would have been a bad idea. You were already panicking enough for all of us.”

 

Frank had to admit, he had a point, but he wasn’t going to let Mikey know that he agreed.

 

They talked off and on about random things for a while after that, Mikey looking through his CDs and reading out little bits of the lyric booklets he found interesting or funny. Eventually, there was a silent agreement that it was time for bed, and sleep came quickly that night, the cool air and silent night helping all three of the boys into its kind embrace.  

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Thing were getting easier, as no one in New York really cared about looking for three boys, and after a couple weeks the reports were mostly just ignored, if they played. Frank started playing his guitar nightly, and writing songs again, though he didn’t have anything to write them down with, so he just kept the tunes in his mind. He was able to pick up the instrument and play them almost the same every single time. Pete had dropped by with the beaten up with a week after he had found them a couch

 

Work was easy, not having any more accidents since the apple tart, and playing with the bands. He had gained a small reputation in the little coffee shop, and people tipped him more often, even if he hadn’t played that day. Pete always watched Mikey and Frank closely. It made Frank feel a little unsettled, but he tried to ignore it, going about his day as if everything was normal.

 

They were called into Pete’s office one day when the shop was having a slow day. Patrick was leaning on one of the walls and staring at his feet, his hat almost falling off his head. Frank watched it for a moment, before focusing back on Pete.

 

“Since school is starting soon, Patrick and I have both agreed that you probably need-” Frank had already tuned him out after he mentioned school. Right, that hell-hole that kids were forced into for 70% of their lives.

 

“Frank?” Pete asked, forcing him back to the conversation at hand. “Were you listening at all?”

 

Frank shook his head meekly, and Pete sighed.

 

“We’re giving you these phones to call if there’s any trouble at school, and if you have to take a sick day or whatever. Patrick and I will cover for you,” Pete repeated, pulling two well-used phones out of his desk drawer.

 

Mikey stared at him, his expression not changing when he spoke. “We’re not going to school anymore. We can’t get transfers without contacting Frank’s parents so we’re not going to school. Gee can teach us what we need to know.”

 

Pete frowned, but it was Patrick who spoke first.

 

“He’s 18, right? He can’t teach you guys, he’s barely out of school himself. You need to go.”

 

“I really don’t think we do, I mean, we’ve been doing pretty well for ourselves already, and it’s been almost two months. We’ll be fine without school, plus most teenagers who are going to drop out do so around this time, right?” Frank said, shrugging.

 

“Even if no one in the general public cares, teachers are going to notice that I’m that kid whose face was plastered everywhere for a few weeks,” he pointed out, continuing his previous statement, and Patrick’s face fell slightly.

 

“We can get you in under fake names, and those pictures were old, with a haircut and a dye job, none of you would look the same.”

 

“Okay, but we would still need the transfers from our old school, and our parents’ signatures,” Mikey replied, though he was eyeing up the phone. The room was silent for a while, all of them slowly mulling over the conversation. Pete eventually let them go when he noticed there was a small line at the counter.

 

Frank’s mind was on the school thing for most of the afternoon, so much that he didn’t notice a member of one of the bands he had played with a few times walk in, until he slapped him on the shoulder roughly.

 

“Hey Frankie, working hard or hardly working?” The guy asked. Frank was pretty sure his name was Neil.

 

“Little bit of both, what’s up?” Frank asked, leaning against an empty table.

 

“Came to see if you could come jam a bit this weekend, Saturday?”

 

Frank thought for a minute, finding that he wasn’t working, and would be alone for the whole day, as Mikey and Gerard would be.

 

“Yeah sure, why not? Where?” Frank asked, having gotten to know the town around him a bit better, and knowing the street names… mostly, at least.

 

“Just down the road from here, house sixty-seven. We start at noon, but I gotta go!” Neil left the coffee shop after grabbing a coffee from Mikey, who was giving Frank a look he didn’t understand.

 

That night they got home late, but Gerard was waiting by the front door for them, almost shaking in his excitement.

 

“You’ll never fucking guess what happened today.” Gerard barely waited to make sure that it was Frank and Mikey coming in, and didn’t let them guess either. “A rep from Cartoon Network came in, and said he liked my work, and wanted to interview me for a job!”

 

Gerards excitement certainly was contagious, as a couple seconds later Frank was trying to climb onto his back as a weird sign of overjoyed affection, while Mikey somehow was tackling him to the ground until they were all in a heap, loudly yelling at Gerard for not telling them as soon as it happened, and various forms of congratulations, most of which containing profanities.

 

Frank even was able to sneak in a kiss to his cheek when Mikey wasn’t looking, though he probably knew what happened from the flush spreading on his cheeks, and the pleased expression on Gerard’s face.

 

They stayed up late that night, talking excitedly over what might happen now, until it was well past midnight, and both Mikey and Frank were close to dropping off mid sentence.

 

The next morning was weird, as they woke up to someone knocking at the door at least an hour before they had to wake up. Frank, being the smallest, was kicked out of bed and forced to answer it, though he made sure to get in a few good and painful nudges to both of the others.

 

“Lazy fuckers,” he mumbled as he walked towards the door, rubbing his eyes and trying to look awake and alert.

 

“Hello?” Frank called, looking through the peephole. He only saw a black hat, but then the person looked up and he could see Patrick’s face.

 

“Frank?”

 

“Yeah yeah, hang on a second, Patrick.” Frank unlocked the door, and let the shorter man in. He always felt really happy around Patrick, because he was finally taller than someone.

 

“Frank, hi, sorry that it’s so early-” Patrick started, but Frank shrugged off the apology, though he was a little pissed off, because he was fully awake now, and wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep, and Patrick didn’t even bring coffee with him. He was a good guy though, and probably had a good reason for waking him up so early.

 

“What’s up?” He asked, and Patrick seemed to remember that he was here for something, as he had been staring around the apartment in a- what Frank was growing familiar- with look of pity. He started digging in his pockets, and pulled out a couple sheets of paper.

 

“This probably could have waited-” Frank took a moment to stew in anger. “-But Pete and I wanted to move the store, so we have more room and could host bigger bands for acoustic sets and stuff, but to do that we need to fix the books a bit, and we need you to actually sign a working contract. Sorry again, for waking you up for something like this…”

 

Frank shrugged once more, and reached out for the papers, reading them over. He knew that Patrick and Pete wouldn’t fuck him over, but still wanted to know what he was signing away.

 

“What should I put down for phone number?” Frank asked, and Patrick remembered something _else_ he forgot to tell Frank.

 

“Oh! Right! I know you guys aren’t going to school, but I still think you should have these, just in case you need help or anything,” Patrick said, and pulled out the two cell phones. Frank sighed, and shook his head, not taking the phones like Patrick wanted him to.

 

“We can’t afford it, plus we already have our own phones, they just aren’t connected right now, and I destroyed my chip so the cops couldn’t track it.”

 

Patrick nodded, shaking the phones in his hand as if they would solve everything. “I know, that’s why Pete and I are paying for them. He said that he told you that we would help you guys out, didn’t he?”

 

Frank nodded, because _yeah_ , he had, but he didn’t think it actually meant anything. It never did much back in Belleville when people said they wanted to help.

 

“You really don’t have to do that.”

 

“It isn’t just from the bottom of our hearts, all of our workers have to have some way to contact us, so that’s the other reason we’re giving you these,” Patrick said with a small frown, as if even the idea of doing something that wasn’t just for the person was a crime to him. Frank still eyed the phone nervously. The cost for it was probably going to be deducted from his pay if he took it, and they couldn’t afford two phones.

 

Patrick sighed, and put the phones on the arm of the couch, not really giving Frank a choice of taking it or not. “There’s no tracking chip or whatever, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s untrackable, and only Pete and I know the numbers, or who they belong to. I gotta get back, but bring the sheets in when you come to work. Again, sorry for the rude awakening.”

 

Patrick was gone as quickly as he had arrived. Frank was left staring at the two phones, and no idea what to do with them.

 

He felt _bad_ about the two spending money on him; he didn’t want them to feel responsible for the group of boys that had stumbled onto their coffee shop doorstep. He heard a loud, disruptive yawn from the bedroom, and walked back, standing in the doorway and reading over the papers.

 

“Who was it?” Mikey asked sleepily, and Frank handed him his own small bundle of papers before he answered.

 

“Patrick. He gave me the phones again, and these papers we need to fill out so they can move the shop.” Frank then got distracted by Gerard humming the tune to Common People quietly. He knew Gerard had a good voice, but he also knew that he had stage fright, and hated other people listening to him without explicit permission. He tried to talk while listening so Gerard wouldn’t realize that he was.

 

Mikey pulled himself out of the bed, walking out of the room without a word except a small mumble about something written down on the paper. Frank took the rare moment of being alone with Gerard, and climbed into the bed next to him, kissing him lightly on the cheek again, as he had last night.

 

“When’s your interview?” Frank asked, remembering the good news from the previous night.

 

“Next Thursday, I need to take a ferry out there so I’ll be gone before you and Mikey are up,” Gerard replied. Frank pouted at this bit of information he received, but Gerard cheered him up pretty quickly by pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth, before sitting up in bed, nose working swiftly as Frank rolled his eyes.

 

He was like a damn bloodhound when it came to coffee, Frank thought as Gerard was quick to get out of bed when Mikey put on a pot of coffee, and wait by the machine as it churned out the brown liquid.

 

He finished filling out the sheet of paper, grabbing one of the phones and shoving the sheet and phone into his pocket, grabbing the mug of coffee Gerard was holding out to him. He knew that it was going to be too sweet because Gerard loved sugar, and didn’t understand how Frank _didn’t_. But, he drank the sweet drink with only the slightest grimace, and dumped the empty mug into the sink

 

He walked into work still clutching Gerard’s hand, as he had grabbed it when they started walking, but when Patrick rushed over to them to get the papers, he barely glanced at Gerard, just running back to the office after he had gotten the sheets.

 

Frank beamed at Gerard, before letting go of his hand to pull his apron on over his head, saying a quick goodbye and starting to hand out the few coffees Mikey had already made.

 

The day seemed to drag by, and Frank only realized that it was Friday when a lady he was serving asked if he was having a good Friday. He smiled at her, and nodded, before heading back behind the counter and sighing loudly to get Mikey’s attention, though he didn’t really have to, considering Mikey was already looking at him.

 

“What?”

 

“Did you know it’s Friday?”

 

“I had no fucking clue.”

 

Frank couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic, so he dropped the topic. He was still excited for tomorrow, excited to be apart of something that might matter.

 

The day still insisted on dragging by though, Frank keeping the thoughts of band practice in the forefront of his mind, Pete calling both of them into the back to talk to some guy about employee satisfaction or some bullshit, and then there was a group of teenage girls who kept calling Frank over, trying to get his number, and to convince him to give them Mikey’s as well.

 

He was getting annoyed by the fifth time they called him over without buying anything, forcing a smile onto his face as he trudged over.

 

“Can I help you?” Frank asked for the _fifth fucking time_ , only to be met with high pitched giggles that made him want to slap them across the face just to shut them up.

 

Maybe this is why he’s gay.

 

“You can help us by giving me yours and the guy at the counter’s number,” the girl who was speaking waved flirtatiously at Mikey, who didn’t even bat an eyelash, just going about making coffee and setting donuts on small plates.

 

“Look, I’m not giving any of you either of our numbers,” Frank said, and stomped off again.

 

“I’m taking my lunch break, give me a few minutes, Gerard said he wanted to meet for lunch, and I’m going to bring him back here,” Frank stated once he had gotten over to Mikey, who nodded silently, still calmly going about his business. “If those chicks bug you about where I am, just tell ‘em I’ll be back in five minutes. I got a plan.”

 

Mikey nodded again, though he was giving Frank a weird look. He just waved his hand and took off the apron, resting it on the counter before popping his head into Pete's office to tell him he was heading out for lunch.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED VERSION

The walk to the record store only took a few minutes, and Gerard packing up his sketches took another two.

 

“Where do you want to go?” Gerard asked happily, and Frank set his plan into action, sidling up next to him and taking his hand, pressing his own body close to Gerard’s.

 

“I was thinking we could head back to the coffee shop?” He wasn’t sure why he was doing this to try and get Gerard to agree, it would only take a few more seconds at minimum to get him to agree, but this was still a little bit quicker.

 

“Mikey’s going to be there…” Gerard replied, unsure.

 

“Do you really think he cares if we hold hands around him, or do anything besides make out on top of the table?”

 

Gerard snorted a laugh, but nodded in agreement. It was true, Mikey had barely said anything when he found out they were in some kind of relationship that they hadn’t really had a chance to figure out themselves. He had just mumbled ‘about time’ under his breath.

 

“Okay, fine,” Gerard gave in pretty quickly, as Frank knew he would, but still reached up a little and kissed him on the cheek before starting to tug him toward the door. Locking up the shop only took a few seconds, and they were soon walking down the street, still clutching hands tightly.

 

As they neared the coffee shop, Frank was almost giddy just to get the teens out of there. He also was a little guilty, because he was basically _using_ Gerard. He couldn’t let himself dwell on that fact however, or the plan would be ruined because Gerard would notice that he was feeling bad, and make him tell the plan, then be disgusted with Frank, and leave him forever. So, definitely not going to dwell on that anymore than he already had.

 

If he did this correctly, there would be no reason for Gerard to know why he was insisting they go back to the coffee shop.

 

Frank squeezed his hand as he opened the door to the shop for him, and followed Gerard in, before ducking in front to lead him to an empty table. He heard a small shuffle of chairs as the girl turned to watch him, but he kept his head forward as he lead Gerard forward to the back.

 

Patrick had taken over bringing food to people, and smiled brightly at them when he walked by with a tray. He stopped on his way back to the counter to ask them if he could grab them their coffees, to which they both gratefully agreed.

 

Frank actually forgot about the plan, having such a good time just talking to Gerard, even kissing him- after a quick check that Mikey wasn’t in sight, of course.

 

He remembered though, when he saw one of the girls walking up to the counter with an angry look on her face.

 

To be honest, he didn’t care about them anymore, and was just happy with Gerard sitting close to him, arm wrapped around his shoulders as they drank coffee and talked shit about random customers they had encountered, and just acted like the fucking teenagers they were, forgetting about the shit ton of worries they had just for a bit.

 

“So dude comes in, right? He looks like fifty years old, or at least ready to keel over on the fucking floor. He looks at me, and asks where a worker is, and that five year olds shouldn’t be working with coffee. Like, it’s tainted because I’m not tall or muscular,” Frank said, grinning. “I told him Patrick and Pete were out and-”

 

Frank stops as he heard the girl raise her voice, and start gesturing wildly at them.

 

Gerard noticed where he was looking, and followed his gaze, raising a brow when he noticed the girl seemed to be mad at _them_ , even though they had done literally the exact same thing as her and her bitchy friends, except they actually bought drinks.

 

“Wonder what’s wrong with her.”

 

“Probably pissed off that you’re gay,” Frank replied with a smirk, glancing over at him. “The female race lost a hell of a man when you discovered dick.”

 

He pushed back from the table after this statement, almost laughing at Gerard’s bewildered face. “Better go save Mikey and Patrick though, surprised Pete hasn’t heard all the noise.”

 

“Miss, we can’t fire him because he’s gay, we’re fine with that here.” Frank was listening to Patrick struggle to calm the girl down. Mikey was staring at her with what Frank knew was an annoyed look, but to anyone else it would seem like a blank stare.

 

“I don’t care, just get him and his _boyfriend_ out of here!” She replied, her voice annoyingly high pitched when she got angry. She also said boyfriend as if it were a profanity. “I want a refund, because he’s touched everything I’ve bought!”

 

“You haven’t _bought anything_ to be refunded, plus you can’t ‘catch gay’ just because I touched the plate your food was sitting on. If it bothers you so much, just leave. Didn’t your mom ever teach you if you don’t have anything nice to say, shut the fuck up?” Frank said in response, glancing back toward the table where the girls had been sitting. They were still there, talking among themselves. It seemed the only one really bothered by the whole thing was this one chick.

 

She jumped back at Frank's words, glaring at him.

 

“Your friends don’t seem to care either,” Frank continued, raising his eyebrows as if he was surprised.

 

Eventually, the girl just left, alone and without refund, but Pete had been called out from the noise. When he approached Patrick, he placed a hand on his waist- Frank fucking called that shit- and stared at the girl, asking what was going on, and she seemed to realize it was a lost cause, and left without another word.

 

Once Frank returned to Gerard, both of their lunch hours were almost over, and the only thing they could do was walk back to the record store.

 

“Sorry about that,” Frank said as he walked next to him, hands tucked into his pockets meekly, and not searching for Gerard’s as they usually did.

 

“It’s fine, Frank, you didn’t know that would happen,” Gerard replied, and Frank bumped against him slightly as they approached the record store. For once, Frank was wishing the walk was longer so that he could spend more time alone with Gerard.

 

“I miss your basement,” Frank whispered with a small frown, shaking his head. The words didn’t sound right. “I miss being alone with you. Not that I don’t love Mikey, I just wish we could be alone together more.”

 

Gerard nodded at his words, and linked their arms together.

 

“Well, this Wednesday coming up, we both have the day off. We can hang out in the apartment all day, or go find some park and be angsty teenagers who sit on the monkey bars, smoke, and whine about our problems.” Gerard pulled him closer to his side with a grin. Frank nodded in agreement to the plan, and they walked into the store with barely any space between them. They left the front door unlocked as they strolled over to the counter. Frank glanced over the shelves, feeling a slight pang of homesickness as he saw some of the CDs he used to own.

 

It wasn’t so much wishing to be home, it was more missing his guitar, CDs, and even his movies. At the thought of his parents though, he felt sick. After sixteen years of knowing someone, you would think that being a homophobe would have come up eventually, but somehow _both_ of his parents managed to keep it a secret.

 

He shook himself out of the thoughts of home, and squeezed Gerard’s arm lightly, stopping before the counter before he let go.

 

“I better get back,” Frank said, and kissed Gerard before starting back to the shop with a small wave. He walked back in a slight daze, but managed to shake it off enough to look attentive while he finished up working. Mikey noticed something was off with Frank, but didn’t mention it, just sent him a glance to make sure he didn’t take off while they were walking home.

 

“Can I head to bed?” Frank asked when he walked in, opting out of their usual evening of guitar playing and shit talking. Gerard sent him a concerned look, but just nodded. Frank didn’t say anything either as he walked to the bedroom, and promptly passed out

 

He was vaguely aware of Mikey and Gerard coming into the bedroom a few hours later, but fell back asleep pretty quickly when they both had settled on the bed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *unedited, will post edited version when it's finished*
> 
> Update: *edited*

Frank woke up still feeling a little off, but pulled himself out of bed when Gerard poked him in the side, registering that he was waking up a little later than usual. He slowly realized that it was Saturday. He didn’t even have to be awake, but it was too late to climb back into bed and pass out again, already holding a mug of coffee. So, he walked Mikey and Gerard to the coffee shop, ordered another coffee, and drank it in mere minutes as Gerard cradled his own close, savouring it.

 

“You’re not getting any of mine,” Gerard said when he noticed Frank had already finished his own. He only grunted in response, feeling exhausted even though he got more sleep than usual.

 

“Are you feeling alright?” Gerard asked, knowing that any other time Frank would have tried to grab the cup right out of his hands.

 

“I think I might be coming down with something…” Frank admitted, frowning.

 

“Would be just my luck, not get sick all fucking summer, and then in the last week of August I’m deathly ill,” Frank mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. Gerard bumped into his side in a comforting fashion.

 

“Do you think it’s just a cold or something? I can pick up some meds tonight if you need me to.”

Frank nodded slightly, but then changed to shaking his head fairly quick, the motions confusing both of them.

 

“I don’t want to be a bother, I’ll be fine.”

 

“Frank,” Gerard said in a voice that reminded him so much of his mother and he hated it.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Frank repeated, his voice tight. Gerard looked taken aback for half a second, but nodded, noticing the surprised look on Frank’s face at his own words. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Gee. I don’t know what I’m coming down with, so I don’t know what meds you could get, but I’m sorry for being a fucking asshole.”

 

“It’s fine Frank, just get better, okay?” Gerard asked, and Frank drooped slightly, hanging his head, but nodded. He was disgusted with how he was acting, even though Gerard was just trying to help him. Shame was pooling in his belly, and he knew that he was getting bad again, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself. But it wasn’t just his depression making him feel this way, it was something else entirely.

 

He was prone to sickness, so he knew how he felt when he was getting ill, and he should be able to figure out what he needs to feel better, but he couldn’t this time, and that worried him a lot.

 

“I’ll grab some Advil at lunch, and hang out at the apartment with you for a bit, okay? You should rest until I get home.”

 

“But I gotta go to a thing,” Frank resisted, pouting down at his shoes.

 

“A thing?” Gerard asked quizzically, sipping his coffee.

 

“Yeah, these guys that played a couple times at the shop want me to come play a bit with them. Pencey Prep, or something like that.”

 

Gerard was already shaking his head before Frank even finished speaking.

 

“No no, you can’t go today, you’ll just get worse.” They were standing in front of the record shop now, but Gerard wasn’t moving to unlock the door, just staring at Frank. “You’re going to have to apologize next time they come to the shop, because I’m not letting you get sicker.”

 

“It’s gonna be like an hour Gerard, calm down. It’s not like playing guitar is that strenuous anyway.”

 

“Not for normal people, but the way you thrash around…”

 

“Just drop it, I’ll be fine, okay? I’m not a child, I can take care of myself. Have a good day at work,” Frank said, and without another word, turned on his heel and walked away. He prided himself on not looking back once, and walked back to the apartment alone.

 

He spent most of the morning lounging on the couch, generally just feeling bad about himself, and regretting not kissing Gerard goodbye that morning.

 

After all, with the lives they lived, who knows if he’d see him again.

 

Frank started his small journey to house sixty-seven at twelve, looking into the coffee shop as he passed, but stopped himself from waving at Mikey, as he would probably try to stop him going, just like his brother.

 

He continued walking, keeping his head down as he walked past the record shop. A couple times he allowed himself to pause, doubling over on the sidewalk from the force of his coughing. But, he made it to the house eventually, and knocked on the door. It opened, and a puff of smoke billowed out dramatically, in true cartoon fashion.

 

“Hey Frankie!” Neil yelled, and pulled him into the room. Frank glanced at him, but was only able to notice his eyes were slightly rimmed in red. “Glad you could make it!”

 

Frank nodded and turned so that he could look around the room.

 

It was an alright place, if he were to be fair. It was better than his own place, though not by much. There was a keyboard, drum set, two guitars and a bass all laying around in what seemed like random spots, but Frank guessed there was a method to the madness.

 

A cigarette was offered to him while he was looking around, which he gratefully accepted, having not had a smoke since he ran away. They just couldn’t afford it.

 

After a bit of introduction to the other people there, whose names Frank was going to proceed to take forever to remember, they all went over to their respective instruments.

 

Frank received a small stack of handwritten music to see if he would play it. None of it seemed too difficult, and he was able to with ease. Practice was fun, and Frank enjoyed himself a lot, as they would all say random comments about the song and would burst out laughing. Though, by the time they were setting the instruments down, his chest was heavy and his head was buzzing, and hard to keep holding up.

 

“I gotta go…” Frank said, rubbing his arms, which seemed to be chilled, even though the room was warm, and Frank felt overheated.

 

“Same time next week, Frankie boy!” Neil called over to him from his place on the couch. Frank nodded, and let himself out of the building. His footsteps were dragging across the sidewalk, and he had his arms curled around himself as he started home.

 

He wasn’t even that tired, but he wanted to lay in bed and never move again. While he was walking, he realized that he could have been lying in bed this entire time. He didn’t regret going to the practice though, he had truly enjoyed himself. He just felt a little overwhelmed by all of it, but only a little.

 

Frank let himself pause, not sure why he had the urge to stop, but he looked over to the shop he was paused next to, and sighed aggressively. Obviously, his body was trying to tell him something, because he had stopped right in front of the record store.

 

“Fucking fine,” Frank huffed to himself, before pushing the door open. Gerard’s head shot up from his drawing when the bell above the door went off. Frank was standing awkwardly in the doorway, scratching the back of his head nervously.

 

“You coming in, or are you just going to stand there?” Gerard asked from across the room, and Frank nodded slowly, before stepping into the store. After a second it clicked in his brain that there were other people there, watching his sluggish walk, and he hurried toward the counter.

 

“You okay Frank?” Gerard quietly asked once he was standing to the side of the counter, not yet behind it but not in front of it either. Gerard patted the chair that was pushed up against his own, and Frank took the offer of the seat with a thankful grimace that had meant to be a smile.

 

“I’m getting bad.”

 

“Frank, you never stop being bad. Somedays your shields are just too exhausted to work properly. You’re getting sick, so you can’t keep the fake smile up. I know you, I know how you are, and I know when you’re actually happy,” Gerard stated as Frank wrapped his arms around himself again as he settled in.

 

He hated that Gerard was right, he hated how well Gerard knew him, and he hated how he was getting upset by his best friend knowing him well.

 

They were able to sit, and Gerard would know just what to do to make him feel better, even if Frank himself had no idea, and hadn’t said anything about how he actually was feeling. He was already working away on a new sheet of paper, The Smiths playing softly over the tinny sound system of the store. Frank was staring around aimlessly his thigh pressed against Gerard, the warm body heat between them comforting.

 

He found himself humming along quietly to the music, leaning back in the chair. He was tired, but not enough to pass out on a hard, wooden chair in the middle of a shop; but he could rest his eyes, so he did, easily. He heard Gerard talking to a customer, the loud clang of coins against the metal of the cash register, the soft ruffling of a plastic bag, then the bell over the door going off.

 

It was comforting, really. The utter normality around him as he was breaking on the inside. He felt Gerard’s arm moving slightly as he was drawing, and Frank let out a soft breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

 

He felt something being tucked into the pocket of his jeans, but didn’t move to check what it was. He knew Gerard wouldn’t put anything dangerous in there.

 

“I think you should head back to the apartment, you look like you’re gonna pass out in the chair.”

 

Frank shrugged, but he did agree quietly in his mind, and yet he didn’t move from his seat. Gerard pushed his shoulder slightly, helping him stand up. “I’ll be by within the hour with Advil. Do you want me to grab anything else?”

 

“Chocolate?” Frank said hopefully, rubbing one eye. He had heard somewhere that chocolate helped with depression. Even if it wasn’t true, chocolate was chocolate. Gerard nodded without questioning it, and started gathering up his own things.

 

“Get going then, I’ll get you your meds and junk food,” Gerard said, shooing out of the store with a quick kiss to the cheek. Frank started walking back home, eyes trained to the sidewalk as if he was being anchored to the ground he was touching. He got to their building after a few more minutes, though it took him a bit to get up the stairs, and unlock the door.

 

It took a few tries to get the key into the lock properly, more than he’d like to admit, his coordination causing him to stab the door a few times. He said a quick apology to an inanimate object, then frowned at himself for acting that way. He gave the door the finger, and peace was restored again.

 

Frank stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass of water from the tap, and walked out of the kitchen again, and to the couch. He was sitting there calmly, trying to figure out what was wrong with him when he noticed a small bit of pressure behind his eyes, and sighed weakly.

 

“Well, fuck,” he stated to himself, and wished that he hadn’t a few seconds later, as the pressure headache that was building now flared because he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He knew the headache wasn’t from the illness he had been preparing himself for,  but this was going to add a fuck-ton of pain. He sighed once more, irritated, before laying down on the couch, throwing a hand over his eyes to block the sunlight coming in through the curtainless window.

 

Well, fuck you too then, sun.

 

Frank had almost passed out when the door to the apartment opened. He popped one eye open to make sure that it wasn’t some creep looking to steal shit, nodding slightly when it was Gerard standing at the door, before closing his eyes again.

 

“You asleep, or just resting your eyes?” Gerard called softly, putting the plastic bag in his hand onto the table. Frank didn’t answer, just grabbed the bag, reaching in and feeling around until his fingers closed around the pill bottle. It only took him a few seconds to take the two of the pills dry and settle back down on the couch.

 

“Are you feeling better now that you’re lying down?” Frank nodded slightly, arm slung over his face to protect his eyes from the light.

 

“I wish we had some fucking curtains though,” Frank mumbled, and Gerard hummed his agreement, glancing towards the window and glaring at the terrible sunlight like the god damned vampire he was.

 

“Next pay, we’ll see if we can afford it.”

 

“It isn’t really necessary, if we really need to block out light we just throw a blanket over the rails left from the last people here.” Frank’s free arm which had been lying over his stomach gestured over to the bare rail attached to the wall, waiting for new curtains that may never come.

 

“But why would we do that if we can actually afford curtains? It’s not like any of us are saving for college.”

 

Frank shrugged, feeling guilt and sleep creeping up on him. Gerard seemed to sense that he was now tired, and shut up for a little while.

 

Frank was thankful for the quiet, but Gerard’s voice was so soft that it had barely been bothering him, and couldn’t help but wish that for once, Gerard would sing to him, holding him close because of the little room on the couch, whispering soft lyrics into his ear.

 

His pressure headache seemed to be getting worse, causing hallucinations or something like that, because he could actually feel Gerard’s hands winding their way around his waist, his breath tickling his ear as his beautiful voice sung sweetly to him.

 

It all seemed so real though, so vivid, that it left Frank wondering, maybe it wasn’t a hallucination. Maybe it was a dream, or maybe Gerard allowed his carefully built walls to fall, just for a little while, just for him.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again this is unbeta'd and I'll repost it with edits im just really bad at finishing stuff early to give my beta time to run through it before i post it

Frank was drifting between consciousness and sleep when Gerard left, and only surfaced fully from the weird drifting state when the need to piss was too great to ignore anymore.

 

He remembered the object in his pocket once he had finished up in the washroom, and pulled it out as he stumbled towards the kitchen for another drink of water.

 

It was a slip of paper, with a picture scribbled on it. Frank smiled slightly at the drawing, looking it over. It was a somewhat disturbingly realistic picture of him as a zombie. But it still made Frank chuckle slightly. If he was being honest, he probably looked and was acting like a zombie these past few days.

 

Frank wandered back to the couch, placed his glass on the table and flopped down. The drawing crumpled in his hand, though he quickly smoothed it as much as he could. He had completely shaken off the thought of sleep by the time it was acceptable. The headache was still there and demanding his attention, but he would ignore it until it was gone. He was tempted to walk down to the store and tell Gerard how happy he was with the drawing, but probably knew that was a bad idea with the shape he was in.

 

So, instead, he lay back down and tried to remember all the people who had mentioned they were sick, and what they had to try and narrow down what kind of sickness was coming. Eventually, he dropped off into sleep.

 

Frank woke a few hours after Mikey and Gerard had gotten home, but the first thought in his head was _shit_ because he had slept too much. Now he was going to be up all night, and that wasn’t going to be good considering the thoughts still lingering in his mind.

 

He sat up with a groan of “Fuck”, clutching his forehead because of the onslaught of pain from the headache, only to find that it was gone. However, the back of his throat felt like he had gurgled razors and woodchips.

 

“Feeling okay?” Gerard asked, already standing to get him some more water, or liquid of some kind.

 

“Just fucking dandy.” Frank replied shortly, his voice choppy and causing a lot more pain than he would like speaking to. Gerard didn’t reply, and Frank didn’t really expect Mikey to say anything, which he didn’t. The apartment was a muggy warm, and yet Frank still felt freezing. Gerard returned from the kitchen with, guess what, a glass of water.

 

He grunted his thanks, drinking down a sip of the water, almost spitting it back out when the cold water hit the spot that hurt the most at the back of his throat. “Fuck.” He said again, rubbing his throat and wishing he had eaten the chocolate earlier, because he sure as shit wasn’t going to be able to now.

 

Mikey, however, _could_ eat the chocolate, and did as soon as he realized that Frank couldn’t. “You should get sick more often.” He mused, tearing the wrapper off the the bar with a pleased grin. Frank only grumbled his response, glancing out the window.

 

“What time is it?”

 

“About that time” Gerard replied, a grin spreading on his face from the absolutely fucking terrible dad joke.

 

“Shut the hell up.” Frank said, swinging his arm in Gerards direction. The action wasn’t very threatening, but he was quiet again after that.

 

Eventually Frank got bored of moping on the couch, and reached over, grabbing his guitar from its resting place beside the couch, pulling it into his lap. His fingers ran idly over the frets, and he strummed slowly. Frank realized that he was playing the song he had been making up in his mind over the past few weeks with a small smile, pleased that he had been able to remember it.

 

Gerard looked like he was trying to figure out what song it was, but obviously couldn’t when he gave Frank a slightly confused look. He just shook his head in response, continuing to play softly.

 

Eventually the Way brothers both went to bed, and Frank continued playing quiet songs to soothe them into sleep. He strummed away until his fingers were hurting, and only set the guitar down when he was sure he couldn’t play anymore, laying back down on the couch. It was hard to breath on his stomach, and worse on his back, and he was thirsty when he was finally able to get comfortable.

 

“God damn it.” He said, quickly getting frustrated. Frank pushed himself off the couch, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water. He needed to get better, he knew that. He couldn’t miss a day of work, they couldn’t afford to lose any money. Frank also knew that the only way to get better was to either suck it up and go to work anyway, or sleep it off as soon as possible.

 

The apartment was silent, save for Franks breathing and the hum of the air conditioner kicking on. He had to admit, it scared him a little, the absolute silence that had settled. After being so used to hearing Gerard and Mikey if  he ever woke up, it was disorientating to find himself in the mostly silent night. He could still hear vehicles and voices from outside, but neither of the brothers snored, so he felt like he was alone in the apartment, and it bothered him really badly.

 

Frank was alarmed by how much it scared him, after being alone for so long, he should be used to the relative silence. But he wasn’t anymore, he was scared of it. He was scared of what it meant for him, and scared that he had been sent back to the time when he was alone, and no one cared, and he didn’t even care if he continued living.

 

Quickly Frank shook himself back out of that though before it could even begin properly. He put the glass down in the sink and walked back out to the living room. It still bothered him though, the silence creeping up his spine and making him uneasy.

 

If he went to the bedroom though, he would get everyone else sick, but if he didn’t he could never be able to sleep, and that would mean he would never get better. Maybe if he just laid here, he would pass out from exhaustion.

 

Frank gave up that notion pretty quickly, and dragged himself until he was just outside the bedroom, snickering when he remembered the zombie drawing. If only Gerard could see him now. But then a sick feeling began in the pit of his stomach, and he felt terrible that he was probably going to get Gerard and Mikey sick. He tried to kick the thought away though, and opened the door slowly, trying to make sure it didn’t make a noise.

 

He pushed himself up against the side of the bed, not getting into any hopes that he could possibly prevent them getting too sick.

 

Finally though, he was able to find some sleep. It didn’t last long of course, but enough that in the morning, his throat was complaining from lack of moisture. He pushed himself up off the ground, rubbing his neck which was now hurting him, and fetched himself a glass of water, hearing the alarm blast out of Gerard’s phone as he closed the door behind him.

 

He forced himself to go to work, managing to convince Gerard that he was okay to go, even though Mikey offered to give Frank his day off. Thankfully, it was a slow day, and he spent most of it in a muggy haze, but slowly feeling a little better than he had that morning.  Neil walked in a couple hours before closing time, and ordered a coffee, grinning at Frank brightly.

 

“So we got a gig.”

 

“Already? Are you sure you don’t want to practice a bit more before doing something like that?” Frank asked, nerves already jumping up his throat and threatening to choke him. Neil gave him a slightly worried look, his voice still sounded like fucking shit, but didn’t comment on it.

 

“Yeah, you did fine. Here, I even printed you off some copies of the setlist so you can practice. It’s on Friday, 9 o’clock, at the club down the street from here, The Cellar or something like that.” Frank took the small bundle of papers he hadn’t noticed before, setting them onto the countertop. “But I better get back before my boss bites my head off.” Rolling his eyes, Neil paid for his coffee and left the shop.

 

Needless to say, Frank was practicing any time he found himself bored, his fingers quickly gaining back the calluses that had softened during the few weeks he found himself guitarless.


	11. Chapter 11

On Gerard’s day off, Frank was feeling up to going out, and after a bit of persuasion, Gerard was too. They decided to go to Central Park, considering they had the entire day to spend together.

 

It took about a half hour to get there, but they were walking slowly, taking time to actually look around. They even stopped by the coffee shop to visit Mikey and get a couple cups of coffee.

 

Once they had actually arrived, they found a shady spot of grass to sit on, and talked quietly. It was nice, and felt a lot like the days where Frank would find refuge in Gerard’s basement, fingers twitching for a cigarette even after he was forced to quit over a month ago because they simply couldn’t afford it.

 

But it was nice, being able to talk to Gerard, leaning against the tree that was providing shade, and when they ran out of things to talk about, there were plenty of people for Gerard to make up lives for, whispering their secrets in Frank’s ear.

 

He honestly couldn’t have chosen a better first date, especially with the secret kisses that were littering the side of his head by the time they had to get back home.

 

They ordered out that night, sparing themselves from another night of canned food, since Mikey had earned more tips than usual that day. Gerard started getting jitters about his interview the next day at around midnight, insisting that he had to go to bed that second. Frank rolled his eyes slightly, hands entangled in Gerard’s greasy hair.

 

“Take a shower first, you greaseball,” Frank reminded him as he was forced to remove his hand as Gerard stood up, rolling his eyes. When he finally felt ready to go to sleep, it was well past two, and Mikey had gone to bed at around one thirty.

 

The next morning was weird, because the entire apartment felt empty without Gerard’s groggy presence. Frank and Mikey both woke up later than usual without Gerard’s alarm, and had only about five minutes to get to the coffee shop without being late.

 

They were forced to skip their own coffees, leaving them both like the walking dead until Pete came out and ordered both of them to drink some coffee before one of them slobbered on the customers, which would _not_ happen, Frank was sure of it, but he wasn’t going to argue with free coffee.

 

Gerard was back before their lunch break, and since he had taken the entire day off at the music store, was just hanging around the coffee shop, clutching the mugs like they were his only lifeline and jittering nervously. Frank tried to comfort him as much as he could through quick half sentences spoken quietly as he walked by with a pot to refill someones cup.

 

When their lunch break finally arrived, Gerard barely waited for them to sit down before starting to talk, describing the trip there, how the offices looked, how the secretary was wearing a “Powerpuff Girls” bracelet, how they could see the twin towers on the ferry journey. He only stopped to drink some more coffee, and then continued on talking about how the interview itself went, and the guy he had met who had an entire sleeve of Marvel characters going up his right arm.

 

Eventually, he ran out of things to talk about, and settled down enough to actually drink his cold coffee. Mikey seemed indifferent about the entire thing, but Frank was a little overwhelmed by all the information at once, though he could handle it. They had to get back to work a little while later, and Gerard went home to wait for them there.

 

The next day was even worse for excitement, as Gerard was still riding the high of getting to meet other cartoonists and possibly working with them in the near future, Frank was panicking over the gig that night, because he wasn't sure he memorized all the songs perfectly yet, and Mikey was just excited to hear live music, as he hadn’t been to a concert in months, and he usually had gone to his fifth concert that summer by now.

 

“Everything will be fine, both of you,” Mikey said once more as they were walking out of the apartment, Frank still pondering if he should change into his Misfits shirt instead of the plain black t-shirt he had on, but was convinced not to when Mikey closed and locked the door, giving both of them a death stare.

 

They got to the bar a half hour early, so Frank could help with set up, and got caught at the door for a few minutes as the bouncer glared them down as Frank tried to explain that he was the guitarist, and that he was on the list to let them in. However, the bouncer didn’t actually have to check the list, because one of the other guys poked his head out the door with a smoke hanging out of his mouth, and waved Frank in, Mikey and Gerard in tow.

 

Gerard was eyeing the bar from the moment they walked in. He had his fake I.D. on him, so it wasn’t like he was going to be refused service, unless his card didn’t work, but it had every other time. When he noticed Frank and Mikey were too busy to notice, he drifted towards the counter.

 

“I.D?” Asked the bored looking bartender, picking at her nails. Gerard quickly handed over the card, and soon had a beer in his hand. Slowly people started gathering in front of the stage, where it was now fully set up, and before Frank was really fully prepared, the show had begun..

 

He was stiff at first, because this wasn’t the coffee shop. There was a lot of people here, and they expected _good_ music, where as in the coffee shop, they expected good food, and the music was just a bonus. He _had_ to impress here.

 

The band seemed to be well known in this club, as a few people were giving him weird looks, as if they knew he didn’t belong there, which he understood because he hadn’t ever played with the band in public before.

 

Over time though, he relaxed again, and soon was thrashing around in a carefree manner. He caught the other members of the band nodding slightly to each other in a gap between two songs, and Neil smiling happily, obviously proud of himself.

 

The show was over almost too quickly for Frank, and soon he was helping carry amps and other various equipment out to a van he wasn’t sure was owned by anyone actually in the band. He was a little too short to be of any actual help, but at least it looked like he was trying.

 

Frank was too buzzed to go straight home after they finished tear down, and pushed his way through the filled room until he found Mikey, talking to a couple guys he had never seen before. They seemed pretty friendly though, and when he actually tuned into the conversation he realized they were talking about him.

 

“I don’t know where the new guitarist gets all the energy from, but it’s definitely working.”

 

“Yeah, Frank’s like that…”

 

“You know him?”

 

“Mhm.” Frank decided to actually make himself known at that moment, waving slightly at Mikey, who just rolled his eyes. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

 

“Yes, hello, it is I, Satan,” Frank said in replied, grinning. The two other guys smiled at each other, then began congratulating him on the show.

 

“Where’s your brother?” Frank asked once they had worn themselves down, poking Mikey in the side and causing him to jump slightly, and glare at him.

 

“By the bar probably.” He nodded in the general direction, and Frank thanked the two guys for coming out, before starting over to try and find the older Way. It wasn’t that difficult, to be fair, since the only other person sitting there was a bit taller and more lanky than Gerard, and with much longer hair, though it too was greasy and black.

 

“Dude, really, you should come by sometime, I got a guy who can get some stuff, and it’ll be great. Just trust me, you trust me, right?” The guy was saying when Frank was able to hear over the pulsing music that had started once they had finished playing.

 

“Mmm, maybe one day, Bert. I gotta… Frankie!” Frank winced slightly at the boyish nickname, but let Gerard fling his arms around his neck and tug him into his chest.

“You were fucking amazing up there dude!” He vaguely heard Gerard say, and managed to pull himself away enough to see Gerard wide, proud smile.

 

“Thanks, G,” Frank replied, his own grin spreading even wider than it was before. He was smiling so much that night, it felt like his cheeks were going to split. He was a little uneasy though, because it was obvious Gerard was a little drunk, but he also trusted Gerard to be responsible.

 

The guy who had been talking to him had slunk off sometime while they were hugging, though Frank wasn’t able to think about that too much as Gerard was currently kissing the fuck out of him.

 

Not that he was complaining, not even close. No, anytime Gerard’s mouth was on his own was a good time, Frank thought to himself. He didn’t know if it was actually possible to become inebriated by someone else’s drunken kisses, but if so, he certainly was.

 

Someone cleared their throat from behind Frank, and reluctantly, he pulled away from Gerard, turning to face who it was as the other draped himself over Frank's shoulders, breath ghosting over his neck, making him shiver and his voice shake when he spoke.

 

“Can I help you?” He asked, raising his eyebrow slightly as Gerard’s lips rasped against the side of his neck.

 

“Just wanted to give this to you, you were the guitarist for Pencey, right? You’re the only one I can find.” Frank nodded, taking the card that was being held out to him, not trusting his voice enough to respond properly. “Talk with the rest of your band about possibly getting signed, and call me. I might be able to get you a shot at a deal.”

 

The guy winked before disappearing into the crowd.

 

Frank was in awe for a moment, the fact that he literally had played one show, and already was approached by a record company. He knew that the New York scene was pretty heavy populated by scouts, but had no idea it was this good. He would have to bring it up next time he saw Neil and the others, he thought as the card was taken from him, Gerard examining it closely. Frank took it back, not exactly trusting that he wouldn’t drop it by accident, and tucked it into his pocket, before turning back to him slowly.

 

“So how did you get alcohol?” Gerard shushed him, and Frank rolled his eyes.

 

“You delinquent, you’re such a terrible influence on me and Mikey,” he said sarcastically, grinning. “You owe me one, ‘kay? But for tonight I think you’ve had enough, why don’t we go find Mikey and get out of here, hm?”

 

Gerard nodded, still leaning heavily on Frank, though it must hurt his back to lean over so much.

 

It took a couple minutes to find Mikey, as he was fitting in very well in the crowd of people. When they finally did, it only took a glance at his brother to agree that it was time to leave, but Frank noticed a bitter look on his face. He didn’t ask though, since the music was too loud, and by the time they got outside, he had forgotten about it.

 

It took them a little longer to get home than it took to actually get to the club, as Gerard started getting a bit heavy, fatigue settling in. But, drunk Gerard was unpredictable, and would randomly bolt away, only to stumble and fall to the ground, lay there for a couple minutes until Frank caught up, and pulled him back to his feet. They did make it back, and Frank was thankful that there was still some Tylenol left and that they had running water. He didn’t want to deal with a hungover Gerard tomorrow without medication and water.

 

They got him into bed, and made him drink a glass of water before he passed out. Mikey and Frank went back into the main room, still too filled with adrenaline from the show to sleep.

 

“Was it really that good?” Frank asked, fingering the card in his pocket. Mikey nodded, taking a seat near the pile of CD’s, looking through them carefully.

 

He hadn’t actually been able to listen to them since the car had run out of gas last month, and they couldn’t afford a CD player just yet. So the show was a nice treat, being able to listen to the music he liked, and not the stuff that played on the radio while they worked.

 

“D’you think Pete would let me bring in some CD’s to play in the shop?” Frank pondered this for a minute, actually placing a hand on his chin and stroking an invisible beard.

 

“The great oracle Frank says that it’s possible.” Mikey shot him a look, and Frank put his hands up to show that he was innocent. “I don’t fucking know man, his numbers probably programmed into your phone, text ‘im and find out.”

 

Mikey found this suggestion acceptable, and directed his death glare towards the phone, which was half the room away.

 

“I don’t wanna get up to get it,” Mikey said, pushing his bottom lip out in a poor imitation of a pout. Frank leaned forwards, and grabbed the phone, tossing it over to Mikey, who immediately focused on it, shoving his almost too long hair out of his face and pushing his glasses higher up on his nose.

 

He tossed the phone aside once he had sent the message, going back to looking through the CD’s, fondly reading the lyric booklets that came with them. Frank glanced out the window at the night as he hummed one of their songs quietly. He found himself missing Jersey, where they didn’t have to hum because everyone owned CD players.

 

But he knew that he couldn’t go back, or at least not until he was older than 18. They wouldn’t force him to go back home then, because he was an adult. He knew his 17th birthday was coming up, but compared to other years, he had enough on his mind, and had pushed it to the very back of his thoughts.

 

Honestly, he didn’t care about things like that anymore, what did his age matter when he was already living on his own, had a job, was paying rent, and for anything else he wanted?

 

So much had changed in so little time, and really, was still changing, he wasn’t sure how the coffee shop was going to go, he wasn’t sure what the guy who had given him the card wanted, he didn’t know anything.

 

That kind of scared Frank, if he was being honest with himself, which lately he had been avoiding.

 

Frank liked to know what was happening, and to be in control of the situation. Maybe that made him a little bit of a control freak, but it wasn’t always a bad thing.

 

The city wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, not really. Sure, there was the almost too common shooting, and the days when they couldn’t get hot water, but here he had found people who cared about him, who wanted him to be there. It felt amazing to be wanted.

 

Mikey interrupted his thoughts with a small whoop of joy, and started sorting through his CD’s, making two piles.

 

“Guessing it’s all good?” Frank commented, sliding off the couch and shuffling over to the CD’s, picking out a few of his favourites.

 

Mikey nodded, rolling his eyes a bit as he explained Pete’s terms. “No heavy metal. Scares away the customers. And nothing too ‘depressing’.”

 

Frank snorted, leaning back against the side of the couch, flipping through one of the booklets.

 

“Pete is weirdly uptight, you know? Like when he didn’t know who we were, when we weren’t working there yet, I heard him joking around with the cashier. It seems like he’s almost scared of us walking out or something,” Mikey said suddenly, glancing up at Frank and shoving his glasses up again from the edge of his nose. Frank thought about it for a minute, tapping his finger against his thigh as he thought back.

 

He was right, as Mikey had the annoying tendency to be, he could remember the jokes that Pete used to throw around and the easy-going attitude he had before their faces were plastered across the television and he knew who they really were.

 

Pete just seemed anxious and upset most of the time now, the bags under his eyes deepening by the day.

 

However, it wasn’t anything Frank could help. Maybe with all the work getting an another building, he would get better, forget that he had three runaways nestled under his and Patrick’s wings.

 

Mikey excused himself to go to bed, and once again Frank was alone.

 

He couldn’t stand the silence, not after 16 years of nothing but it. He went to bed after twenty minutes of staring out the window aimlessly, remembering the view from his window at his old home. If there was one thing he missed, it was the late night roamings he and Gerard would go on, wondering about the places Frank spotted from his window.

 

Once he had seen an old abandoned house, and they had spent the night there. That was possibly one of the best memories he had, him and Gerard staying up until all hours of the night, talking shit about these fucking assholes that had broken Mikey’s glasses.

 

Frank missed those mundane worries, he missed his biggest worries being about school, and when his parents would start talking to him. Now he had to think about where his next meal was coming from, and if they would even survive the year.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no chapter last week, but it was the holidays, cut me some slack, right? While I'm on the subject of weeks where I won't be posting, it's possible that I won't be posting on the 25th because I have to study for exams. However, I will try to get it edited early, and queue for it to post!


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning was absolute shit, as Gerard was hungover and Mikey held back his brother’s hair as he puked out whatever he had eaten the previous day, which wasn’t very much in all honesty.

 

They got through it though, and the week afterwards. Frank, who had started the week feeling amazing, was feeling terrible by the end of it. There was the hanging feeling of failure, of disappointment, knowing that he had been happy literally days previous, and now felt like a car had hit three dogs he owned.

 

Gerard tried to cheer him up again, forcing him to take a walk, but it only made him feel - if it were possible - worse, as everyone else around them was going through their own lives while Frank struggled to even get out of bed most mornings.

 

Even Neil noticed that he was off at practice that week, not moving around as much as he did when he had relaxed last time.

 

“Post concert depression, dude?” He called from his place on the couch with his own guitar. Frank just grunted a response, shrugging his shoulders as he did. “Don’t worry, we got another gig this weekend. I told you that, right? Tomorrow night?”

 

Frank thought for a minute before reaching the conclusion that _no_ , he hadn’t been told, but he acted like he had.

 

It’s not like he needed too much practice anyway, since he had practiced their songs so much over the past week, with Mikey bugging him to play for hours on end.

 

“Oh! Shit, I forgot to tell you guys.” Frank pulled the card the guy had given him out of his back pocket. It was little bit crumpled, but still readable, as one of the others snatched it up. “Some dude gave it to me last week, said we should call him.”

 

Frank shrugged, not noticing the look of amazement on the others’ faces. “He might be able to get us signed and do the whole record deal thing.”

 

“Frank, dude, this is huge!” Shaun yelled, grinning, taking the card from one of the others. The rest of the evening was spent in a celebratory haze, someone breaking out a bag of weed, passing it around, and a seemingly endless supply of smokes appeared.

 

When he got home that night, it was later than his usual time, but he opened the door to only find a frazzled looking Mikey.

 

“I can’t find him!” Was the first thing Mikey said. The apartment around him was destroyed, as if he was going to find whoever he was looking for squished between two cd cases.

 

“Whoa whoa whoa, calm down and explain. Who are you even looking for?” Frank paused, frowning. “Don’t tell me you adopted a dog without me.”

 

“No, dumbass! Gerard! He’s gone, he should have been back ages ago!” Mikey snapped, glaring at Frank as if it was his fault, which was possible.

 

“Mikey, calm down, we can go check at the shop, he might be working late,” Frank suggested, touching the younger Way’s arm gently in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “We’ll find him, even if we have to search all night.”

 

They couldn’t though, after three hours of searching. Gerard wasn’t at the shop, wasn’t at the coffeeshop, not anywhere they could think of.

 

The sun had gone down long ago, and they were getting looks from guys that ran shivers up Frank’s spine as he lead Mikey through the streets. He careful to keep one hand on Mikey’s wrist so that they didn’t lose each other, or get snatched away. They were both pretty fragile dudes, and if one of them went missing, it wouldn’t be too long before the other did

 

“Why don’t we head back, hm?” Frank suggested, nudging Mikey with his hip, though he hated to be the one to give up first. “It won’t do much help to any of us if we end up being killed or something out here.”

 

Mikey frowned, and looked like he was going to protest, but saw the logic and started following Frank back to the apartment. They were about a block away when they noticed a lump on the stairway leading into the building.

 

“That’s him,” Mikey said straight away, and Frank wasn’t going to question the freaky brother bond thing they had going on, and just quickened his pace so they would reach Gerard sooner.

 

As they got closer it became clear the Mikey was right, and soon they were hoisting a less than conscious Gerard upstairs to the apartment.

 

“Think he’s drunk?” Frank asked, glancing over Gerard’s back to Mikey. It was obvious though, as they could both smell the alcohol, and Mikey nodded solemnly. “Tub?” Another nod.

 

He sobered up pretty quickly when the cold water hit him, and almost threw up all over himself, though he already had long before they had arrived.

 

“Ugh, fuck,” Gerard hissed, holding his forehead. Frank frowned, pushing hair out of Gerard’s face.

 

“You okay?” He asked gently, but didn’t get an answer before Mikey roughly punched Gerard’s shoulder, and left.

 

“What’s his problem?” Gerard grunted, and Frank raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

 

“You were missing, Gerard. We’ve been out looking for you for three hours, and Mikey’s been freaking out even longer. Then we come back and find you _drunk_ , and passed out on the doorstep? I think he has a pretty legit reason to be angry,” Frank replied, voice dripping with annoyance. Gerard frowned, lifting his hand from where it had slipped over his eyes. Frank held onto his own scraps of anger by biting his tongue, staring Gerard down.

 

“What time is it?”

 

“About 2 AM, I think,” Frank replied, glancing toward where his phone had been tossed beside the tub. “2:43 exactly.”

 

“Fuck,” Gerard stated, and Frank made an agreeing sound, before examining the older boy’s clothes.

 

“You actually need to bathe,” Frank mumbled, reaching forwards past Gerard’s shoulder, and turning on the hot water. Gerard had started shivering, skin cooling in the water. Frank helped him pull his shirt off, and though he wanted to help him with the pants, he couldn’t help but feel like he would be taking advantage of the situation. So he told Gerard to wash up, and left the room, though a part of him was screaming to stay.

 

Mikey was sitting on the couch, staring at the blank and broken tv in a silent rage. Frank moved to sit on the other side of him, careful not to disturb him.

 

“He’s started again.” This sparked Frank’s  interest, and he glanced over at Mikey.

 

“Drinking,” he clarified before continuing. “He does this whenever he’s scared. He almost drunk himself to death when his final exams were coming up. He had to get his stomach pumped when he was thinking of art collage. I… I thought he had stopped after that, he had promised me that he would stop.”

 

Mikey’s voice shook, and his face was an unearthly colour under the dim lighting.

 

Frank only realized then how small they all were, how broken. They were so vulnerable here, not only to outside influences but also the demons they had all buried deep inside them. They had the ability now to claw to the surface, nail bleeding as they dug into the edge of their minds, whispering terrible things to them in the darkness of the night.

 

He felt guilt settle in his chest, threatening to strangle him. He did this, he made Gerard start drinking again by forcing him to run away. Frank had set him back, by making him root up his entire life. “Fuck, I’m sorry Mikey-”

 

“Don’t,” Mikey snapped, leaking venom. “This isn’t fucking about you, Frank. This is about _Gerard_ fucking up. You didn’t do fucking anything, don’t make this about you and your depression.”

 

Mikey then stood up, though he seemed to realise mid stride that he had no where to run to, unless he left the apartment.

 

“I’m going out,” he sneered, though Frank probably didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t angry at Frank, but couldn’t stop himself from snapping at anyone who got near. He was angry, and hurt that Gerard would break his promise like that, so easily.

 

Mikey was gone before Frank could think to stop him, the apartment feeling cold and empty for the first time since they had moved in. The only sounds was the still running water and the hum of the air conditioner.

  
  



	13. Chapter 13

Gerard emerged from the bathroom about an hour later, water dripping from his hair and making small wet spots on his shirt. Mikey still wasn’t back.

  


Frank had a tickling feeling at the back of his neck, and he was terrified that Mikey wouldn’t return- that he had gotten hurt, raped, or kidnapped, which would be ironic. Gerard, when he heard that Mikey was out and hadn’t returned yet, started pacing the apartment. Frank hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch, staring out the window. It was rare for him to be so still, but he was too scared to move. It felt like he was cemented to the couch, Mikey’s words helping keep him there.

  


“Did he say where he was going?” Gerard asked, tugging on the ends of his still soaked black hair.

  


“No, he just said he was going out.”

  


“Is the coffee shop open right now?”

  


“Yeah.”

  


“Maybe he went there. Text Pete or Patrick. Please.”

  


Frank shook his head at himself for not thinking of it before. It only took a few more minutes of anxiety before one of them replied. He grabbed his phone as soon as the message came in, letting out a small sigh of relief.

  


“He’s there, but he doesn’t want to see us. Pete said he’s going to get him to stay the night at their place, since he was planning on getting a room at a motel.”

  


Gerard seemed to deflate at the news that Mikey was okay, sitting down on the other end of the couch, head resting in his hands.

  


“Mikey’s really pissed, huh?” Gerard asked weakly, and Frank nodded.

  


“I would say so.. But he’s never too mad at you, and it gets hard after being around each other in such a small place like this for so long.” Gerard nodded, though it was obvious that he didn’t _actually_ agree with Frank.

  


“When is he coming back?”

  


“He didn’t say. I would hope soon though.” Frank had never actually seen the two brothers fight, and wasn’t sure if what he was doing was actually comforting at all, but at least he was trying.

  


“We’ve never fought like this before, tiny little things, but never enough to make him leave. And for so _long_ too. I’m… I’m scared for him. Like, logically, I know he can handle himself, but...” Frank felt like he had been punched in the gut. This had all happened because of him.

  


“Did he say _anything_ before he left?” He hesitated, because Frank wasn’t sure if repeating what Mikey had said would make the whole thing worse, but decided to just go for it. Maybe taking some of the blame off Gerard would make him feel better.

  


“He told me that I was making it about me because I felt guilty, and that it was about you messing up, not me,” Frank said quietly, staring at his lap. “Then he left.”

  


Gerard didn’t say anything for a long time after that. Frank grew more and more uncomfortable by the second, until it became too much and he broke the silence. “I’m sorry.”

  


“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” Was Gerard’s automatic answer and Frank wanted to insist that no, he was the only fuck up, but he couldn’t, because it wasn’t true. They were all many different kinds of messed up, and stating that he was the only one would be ignorant, and would just make things worse.

  


So, he stayed quiet, because part of him agreed that it _was_ Gerard’s fault, but there was another part of him that was telling him that if they hadn’t run away, Gerard wouldn’t have started drinking again.

  


He managed to keep that thought inside though, shuffling on the couch a bit. “Why don’t we try and get some rest? It’s late, and staying up all night isn’t going to bring Mikey back. He has somewhere safe to stay, and we’ll see him tomorrow.”  

  


Gerard nodded at Frank’s words, walking toward the bedroom, dejected. Frank followed, turning off the lights as he went.

  


The apartment felt like it was missing something all morning, and Frank couldn’t help but remember when he wished for more alone time with Gerard. Now he just wanted Mikey to come back.

  


Gerard obviously felt the same, the deep bags under his eyes telling that he didn’t sleep very much - if at all. Frank tried to comfort him, promising that Mikey would come back tonight, though he had not idea if he actually would.

  


When they got to the shop, Mikey was already there, wearing a shirt that Frank saw Pete wearing once, his own eyes looking like he hadn’t slept. That would make three of them.

  


He avoided Gerard’s eyes as he made their coffees, wishing him a good day, as he did all customers, but Frank could tell he didn’t actually mean it, and his heart sank. Once Gerard left for his own job, Frank pulled on his apron, but Pete pulled him into his office before he could take the truffles sitting on the counter to their correct table.

  


“What the fuck happened, Iero?” He demanded once he thought they were out of earshot of Mikey, but Frank knew the kid had ears like a fucking hawk.

  


“I can’t say,” Frank replied after a moment of trying to figure out how to answer. “It doesn't involve me, only Mikey and his brother.”

  


“I can fire you.”

  


“Jesus Christ Pete, you’re that concerned? Go ask him yourself. He’ll tell you if he wants to, but I don’t have permission from either of them to tell you. Now, can I go back to work?” Frank replied, anger rising. He wasn’t their keeper, didn’t need Pete to solve their problems, and he certainly wasn’t going to give up his friends just because they had a small fight.

  


“Fine. Get out of here, and don’t mention this to Mikey. Just try to figure out how to fix this.”

  


“Why’s that my job?” Frank exclaimed, frowning, but a look from Pete said to get out, so he did, leaving the office through the doorway, which was the only place in the back not covered in boxes. Frank wasn’t sure what was actually packed in there, since Pete’s office didn’t hold much, and all the stuff out front was still there.

  


He didn’t question it though, not wanting to risk his freedom for a lengthy explanation about boxes. Frank delivered the truffles to a disgruntled looking old dude, who nodded at him in thanks, staring at the newspaper as if it held the secrets to the universe.

  


Work was better, since Mikey had brought his CDs in a couple days previous, and they played over the small sound system, the background noise lifting his spirits slightly. Maybe he would be in a better mood.

  


Mikey gave Frank the beginnings of a smile when he got back to the counter after handing out more food, and that’s when Frank decided to take his chance.

  


“Hey there, Mikey Way,” he said, leaning against the counter.

  


“What do you want?” Mikey replied calmly, knowing Frank too well to fall for the innocent act. “I’m not coming back until Gerard apologizes and shows that he’s not going to do it again. I mean, actually show, cutting up the fake ID and everything.”

  


Frank really couldn’t argue with that, and nodded, walking away again. It wouldn’t be too hard to get Gerard to agree to cut up his ID and get rid of it.

  


At least, Frank hoped it wouldn’t be too hard. It would be for the best of everyone if he did, as he didn’t want to deal with drunk Gerard again.

  


Frank quickly shook off those thoughts, because he was sure it wasn’t a good idea to be thinking those kinds of things in the middle of a busy coffee shop.

  


Before long, it was noon, and Gerard stopped by for his lunch break. Frank was hesitant to tell him about the conversation, but it only took a few minutes to get onto the topic of Mikey.

  


“Well, he said he’d come back if you stop drinking. Completely. Cold turkey.” Gerard nodded slowly, setting down his coffee. “And… He wants you to cut up your fake ID.”

  


His face was now blank, but Frank knew Gerard well enough that it meant he was upset.

  


“Okay.” Was all Gerard said, before he stood up, and walked over to the counter where Mikey had been watching them, trying to be stealthy, but they both had noticed him. Gerard pulled out his wallet, and a card that Frank didn’t recognize was handed over to Mikey, who pocketed it with a small nod.

  


“I’ll see you tonight,” he could hear Gerard say quietly, before going back to the table. Lunch passed without anymore words spoken between them, and that night was uneventful, besides Gerard cutting up the card with a frown clear on his face. Frank had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach as he threw the pieces of the card into the trash, but he ignored it.

  


Weeks managed to fly by in what felt like days, the only eventful things happening was that the coffee shop moved to a bigger place, and the gigs seemed to be getting biggers as ideas were tossed around and set in place, and word spread.

  


Frank couldn’t tell for sure though. He was in a haze for a while, going through the motions without really noticing he was doing anything.

  


He knew Gerard and Mikey had both noticed, and were concerned, but couldn’t do anything to stop it. Most mornings when he woke up, he just started looking forward to falling asleep that night. He was still able to impersonate himself, plastering a smile on at the shop, and thrashing around whenever he had to be on stage, but it was all acting to him.

  


Somewhere along the line, Frank stopped living.

  


Physically, his body was still going, but his consciousness gave up. He was numbed to everything - joy, pain, loneliness, and possibly the worst, love, for both himself and the people around him.

  


Gerard knew. He was terrified, and he didn’t know what he could do to stop it. It was like being in the passenger seat of a spaceship as it was flying into a black hole, the pilot had fallen asleep and his own hands were tied.

  


He went to Frank’s gigs religiously, not missing one because it was the only time he really looked vaguely alive anymore. He was standing near the back when a guy he somewhat recognized wandered over. “No beer this time?”

  


Gerard was confused, but nodded anyway. “Brother made me cut up the ID. Said I had to quit.”

  


“Fuck man, that sucks. Here, let me get one for you.” Gerard wanted to say no, he really did, but couldn’t make his mouth form the right words, the temptation of clueless bliss was too much, and a few minutes later he had a drink in hand.

  


“That’s your boyfriend up there, right?” The guy asked, nodding toward Frank. Gerard felt pride fill his chest as he let out a small smile. They hadn’t labeled themselves as anything, partly because they didn’t have time, and it didn’t feel any different from when they were just friends.

  


“Yeah, that’s Frank.” The guy sent him a look that he really didn’t want to interpret, before changing the topic to safer waters. Gerard wasn’t focusing on him, only letting his brain focus on becoming numb. He was pleased that Mikey had opted out of coming to the gig, and took another long swig of the beer.

  


“Shit dude, you really needed this, didn’t you?” The guy asked, breaking into his thoughts.

  


“You have no idea,” he replied, leaning his head back against the wall. The guy didn’t say anything for a while, biting his lip and looking like he was thinking of something.

  


“I probably shouldn’t be doing this, but if you want something stronger, come with me,” he said suddenly, leaning in close to Gerard’s ear. He had already agreed before he could even think of what it could be.

  


Frank finished up, and helped put their things in the van, before letting himself into the club again. It was no longer difficult to get into places, with the growing ‘fame’ of Pencey. Of course, no one knew their guitarist was only 16, and a runaway.

  


He drifted through the crowds of people, a lot of them trying to get him to stop and talk, but he didn’t - he just wanted to find Gerard, and maybe pull himself out of this haze.

  


He found him at the back, still staring at the stage with fascination. He seemed a little out of it, but so was Frank, so he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just leaned his head against Gerard’s chest, letting himself relax against him.

  


This was another thing that everyone knew. It was routine now for Frank to find Gerard after a show, and according to someone he had spoken to once after a show, it was like watching a tornado wear itself out, all the energy flowing out of him as Gerard carded his hands through his hair.

  


“You alright, Frankie?”

  


“Fine. Let’s go home.” These two sentences were exchanged every time, and then they would leave. Most people knew this routine. They knew not to bother them, and when they did they were mostly ignored, besides a sad smile from Gerard.

  


They made their way out of the club, and were halfway home when Gerard spoke again. “I didn’t know you sing that well.”

  


Frank didn’t reply for a while, as he didn’t even remembering singing, but soon a small thought told him that yes, he had pitched the idea of him doing vocals to the rest of the band, who had agreed, and had been rehearsing them for weeks. “

  


“You sounded great.” Gerard continued, squeezing Frank’s shoulder. “Really, I loved it.”

  


His voice was still distant, eyes unfocused. It was like he was drunk, hanging off Frank more than he usually did, but he knew Gerard couldn’t get alcohol, not anymore.

  


“There’s going to be a band meeting tomorrow so we can call the guy who wanted to sign us. We’re probably going to be recording an actual album or something soon. We’ve got some demos for him to listen to, but he’s already said that he wants to sign us.” This was the most he had spoken in weeks, Frank realized after a moment of Gerard staring at him, a mix between shock and joy.

  


“That’s great!” He exclaimed after getting past all of the emotions rushing through him. “Then you’ll be able to sell your records everywhere!”

  


Frank hummed, nodding. He was a little scared that the authorities would be able to find him if his name really did get big, but he didn’t want to hold back the others. Maybe he could just use a stage name.

  


“Any idea what the albums going to be called?” Gerard prompted, trying to get Frank to continue talking. Whatever the guy had given him had worn off in the shock of Frank talking and showing a little bit of life.

  


“No idea yet, it’s not really my choice either. We’re all going to talk about it, if it gets made. I’ll let you know as soon as I do,” Frank promised, a small smile pushing itself onto his face. He was slowly coming back, bit by bit, as he realized that he was making a future for himself, and that he wasn’t as worthless as he had thought.

  


He was helping Gerard and Mikey as well, and perhaps thats why he was actually feeling better, because he felt like he was paying off his debt to the brothers for running away with him and being framed for kidnapping him.

  


Mikey was already asleep when they got into the apartment, and Frank really didn’t have the energy to stay up anymore, the talking draining him after weeks of next to silence.  Sleep came easy that night, at least, compared to previous nights where Frank would go into a state of non-being, but was still awake, somehow.

  



	14. Chapter 14

When Frank woke up the next day, he didn’t feel completely rested, but close. He could smell coffee, and only noticed that Gerard wasn’t in bed after another couple seconds. He didn’t panic though, and just followed the smell of coffee until he could see Gerard standing tiredly over the coffeemaker, poking it every few seconds as if doing so would make it brew faster.

 

His eyes were red and he looked suspiciously hungover.

 

“You okay?”

 

“You’re actually concerned? Holy shit, first time in weeks,” Gerard spat back with a harsh laugh, and Frank winced, throat tightening with guilt.

 

“I know, I’m sorry. I haven’t been feeling good, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you guys,” Frank mumbled, hands tangled together in front of him, his thumbnail threatening to break skin as he pressed it into the palm of the opposite hand. Gerard didn’t notice, just staring at the coffeemaker in silence, which Frank thought was deserved.

 

Mikey woke up a couple minutes later, and stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. After a couple seconds of standing in between Gerard and Frank, and staring at the coffeemaker, he visibly shivered.

 

“Holy fuck Gerard, I can feel the cold shoulder from here. Knock it off dude,” Mikey said once he had finished, pushing Gerard slightly. When neither of them replied or made any movement, Mikey decided it would be best if he went into work early, and went back to the bedroom to get dressed. He was quick in getting out, not wanting to get between the two of them again, physically or metaphorically.

 

“Gerard? You in there?” He asked carefully, leaning closer and tilting his head. “You just ignored Mikey, dude, are you sick or something?”

 

“I’m fine,” Gerard replied shortly, before pouring the now full coffee pot into two of the three mugs sitting out, and handed Frank one of them. “Have fun at whatever band thing you have today.”

 

Gerard vanished into the washroom, the water starting to run a few seconds later.

 

That’s when Frank got genuinely concerned, because Gerard had taken a shower two days previous, and it always took hours of convincing before he took a shower, even if he smelt like death, which he did, but that wasn’t the point.

 

But Gerard would never betray Mikey, not when he promised something like this. And yet, there was still a nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him there was something wrong.

 

Instead of focusing on that though, he got ready for work, forcing a smile onto his face, something that seemed to help him feel at least a little better. When Gerard got out of the shower, he looked more alive, though his eyes were still faintly red, and he was rubbing his head as if he had a headache. Frank just silently handed him the medicine, and Gerard nodded his thanks.

 

The walk was painfully awkward, the only thing that let Frank know Gerard still wanted him around was the tight grip on his hand, and the sweet kiss at the coffeeshop back door- out of Mikey’s view, of course. The backdoor of the new shop was out of sight of the counter, and only about two minutes away from the apartment, and three from Gerard’s work.

 

“See you at lunch?” Gerard asked, his voice being positive for the first time all morning.

 

“Band meeting, as you said this morning. You can come if you want, though?” Frank knew the offer was useless, since Gerard always felt uncomfortable around them, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

 

“Nah, just drop by once you’re done, and I’ll come walk back to the shop with you, get my lunch then,” Gerard replied, giving Frank’s hand one last squeeze before letting go.

 

“Aw, is little Gerard scared of the big, mean keyboard player?” Frank teased gently, remembering that Gerard had confided in him that he was a little frightened of James, though he had no idea why. Gerard was already was walking away, and gave him a middle finger over his shoulder, shouting; “Fuck you, Iero.” in response.

 

“Anytime, any place, and you know it, baby.” Frank snickered at the stutter in Gerard’s stride, and went into the shop still grinning. Mikey was glaring at the corner as he walked in, and when Frank gave him his best innocent look, he only got an eyeroll.

 

“I hope you two idiots know that everyone can hear you when you yell at each other like that,” Mikey said once he was behind the counter.

 

“Yep, I just like to remind you that I’m banging your brother,” Frank replied, grinning.

 

“Ugh, as if I need reminding, waking up with you two wrapped around each other like that,” Mikey shuddered visibly, and Frank’s grin widened.

 

“You can always join us, Mikey Way. There’s always room.”

 

“Not with the way you-”

 

“Hey!” Pete suddenly appeared, shooting both of them a look that Frank couldn’t really read, but he thought he looked amused. “As much as I would like to hear more details on this, I don’t think the customers need to know anymore about your sleeping arrangements.”

 

Frank looked behind him at their two customers, both consumed in their conversation with each other.

 

“I don’t think they’re listening,” Frank pointed out, but Pete just shook his head, and went back into the back room, where he was helping Patrick take inventory.

 

Lunch seemed to come quicker today, as work seemed more enjoyable when he actually talked to Mikey, imagine that. He was a little pissed at himself for ignoring the younger Way, since they were supposed to be best friends.

 

He had to go to this meeting though, he wanted to stay and have lunch with Mikey, but he just couldn’t miss this, and he apologized for about five minutes before leaving, even though Mikey was ignoring him after the first one.

 

Frank passed by the music shop on his way to the meeting, and took the time to knock on the window until he got Gerard’s attention, and stuck his tongue out at him, before continuing walking as if nothing had happened.  He could faintly hear Gerard’s laughter as he walked by the open door.

 

Frank arrived at the building, and as soon as he opened the door to the basement he was enveloped in welcoming cigarette smoke, and it reminded him so much of Gerard’s back in Jersey that his heart ached for a moment. He only allowed himself to wallow for a split second, before forcing himself to smile again when he heard his name being called.

 

“Hey, earth to Frank!” Someone was saying, and he was being pulled onto the grimy sofa in the corner. He landed across someone’s lap, and light laughter rang out. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

 

After they caught up, though there wasn’t much since it had only been a day, they made Frank call the record company.

 

“You guys are dicks, you know that?” Frank said as it was ringing.

 

“Oh, is that why you love us so much?” Shaun replied, grinning. Frank gave him the finger as he heard someone on the other line pick up.

 

The call went smoothly, and the guy, who turned out to be named Alex, invited them to come over to the studio the following week, so he could hear the demos and possibly start recording. There was a small celebration, before Frank had to head back, and two of the others had classes, though decided they were just going to skip.

 

A while ago they had asked about Frank’s school, but he had just told them he had dropped out, and he wasn’t exactly lying. Things were looking up again, and Frank couldn’t help the small smile slipping onto his face as he left the basement, not wanting the smell of weed on his work clothes, simply out of respect to Pete.

 

Of course, he did allow himself the luxury of a single cigarette from his meager supply. He tossed the smoke away when it was down to the filter, just outside the music shop, and walked in, trying - and failing - to hide his smile.

 

Gerard was absorbed in his drawing, and didn’t even notice Frank until he had hopped over the counter and was practically in his lap.

 

“Hey, Frank,” he was going to say in greeting, but was suddenly too preoccupied by Frank kissing him, all of his happiness clear. Once he pulled away, Gerard finally noticed his wide grin, and raised an eyebrow, not even asking about it because it was clear on his face that it was about the band.

 

“Gerard, I’m doing a fucking record!” Frank exclaimed, unable to stop the smile on his face. Gerard squeezed his arms, and pulled him in for another chaste kiss.

 

“I’m assuming it went well then?”

 

“Fuck yeah, it went well! He’s getting us to come by the studio next week to listen to our demos, and then, if he likes them, we’re recording the following week.” Frank stood up again, bouncing on the balls of his feet

 

“Can you believe it?” He exclaimed as Gerard stood up as well, holding onto Frank’s shoulders as if he was going to fly away. Though, at this point, it was a possibility. He felt lighter than he had since that afternoon in Jersey.

 

“It’s amazing, Frank. Tell me more about it at lunch, okay?” Frank nodded, and stopped moving, instead looking around the shop as if it were the first time he’s been in one.

 

“One day, my stuff is gonna be in here too,” he said wistfully, his wide grin changed into a dopey smile. Gerard nodded, ringing up a purchase from a confused looking kid.

 

“I would hope so,” Gerard replied, looking over his shoulder. “Anyone would be stupid to turn you away.”

 

Frank smiled lightly, giving Gerard a kiss on the cheek in small thanks.

 

“You know it,” he said after, knowing he sounded conceited, but he meant for it to sound determined. “Now, hurry up and let’s head back to the shop.”

 

“We’re in a shop.”

 

“You know which shop I mean, dumbass.” Gerard smirked, and hung up a small, handdrawn sign stating ‘Be back soon!’ with a sandwich and a steaming cup of coffee next to it. Frank smirked, taking Gerard’s hand and pulling him out, barely giving him time to lock the door on the way.

 

“We still don’t have album artwork, you know,” Frank prompted, nudging Gerard’s arm with his shoulder slightly.

 

“Really?” Gerard replied, curious. “Well, wouldn’t the company assign an artist or something?”

 

Frank shrugged, tucking the hand that wasn’t holding Gerard’s into his pocket.

 

“Maybe, I don’t know shit about that, but I bet I can suggest someone,” Frank hinted, and almost tripped over a crack on the sidewalk, managing to pull himself up at the last second, frowning at his feet. Thankfully, Gerard didn’t mention it.

 

“Who were you thinking of?” He sounded hopeful, and Frank rolled his eyes at him, that he even could think that he would consider anyone else.

 

“You, of course.” Frank paused, grinning toward him. “Stupid.” He added, as if an after thought. “Who else would I choose?”

 

“I don’t know. Glad you picked me though. I would have been so offended if you had been seeing another artist. Am I not good enough for you anymore?” Gerard replied, squeezing his hand to let him know he was only joking, though Frank was already grinning wickedly.

 

“You don’t put out enough,” he replied simply, looking at Gerard again, who was flushing, mumbling; ‘shut up’ and stopping. Frank hadn’t even noticed they were already at the coffeeshop.

 

“You know I wouldn’t pick anyone else.” Frank continued, before opening the door, holding it open for Gerard.

 

Lunch was good, since the shop was basically empty, news of the move not really circulating yet to their regular customers. Patrick was a bit worried, double checking everything that could be checked as a way to cope.

 

Eventually, Mikey gave up trying to calm him down, and left his place behind the counter, taking a seat at their table, and stealing sips of his brothers coffee. Since Frank was holding one of Gerard’s hands captive, it was pretty difficult for him to snag the drink back without it spilling.

 

“So, big important meeting, how did it go?” Mikey asked after a couple minutes of Gerard whining about his coffee, but neither Frank nor Mikey doing anything. Frank hadn’t been able to sit still the entire time though, bouncing in his seat anxiously.

 

“Fucking amazing, Mikey! The guy wants us to come in with our demos next week, and if he likes ‘em, we start recording the following week!” Mikey raised his eyebrows slightly, taking a sip of coffee, Gerard making a pained noise beside him.

 

“What record company?”

 

“Eyeball.” Mikeys impressed looked quickly became sceptical.

 

“Never heard of it.” Frank rolled his eyes, pushing his own cup over to Gerard, who eagerly snatched it up, no doubt downing half of it in one sip.

 

“They’re pretty underground, I mean, seriously underground. The guy’s studio is in his mom’s basement.” Mikey smirked, nodding.

 

“Just make sure I get one of the first copies.”

 

“Whatever you say, Mikey Way.” Mikey only rolled his eyes, and gave Gerard back his empty cup.

 

“Terrible service. Not only do they harass me, but they drink my coffee. Why do I even come here?” Gerard mumbled, mostly to himself as he pouted at the empty cup.

 

“Oh shut up, at least you didn’t have to pay for it.” Frank rolled his own eyes again, and kissed the side of his boyfriends head. “Plus, I gave you mine.”

 

“Yeah, like half!” Gerard shot back, kicking at Frank’s chair as Mikey got up, going back behind the counter. A couple minutes later of Frank and Gerard going back and forth, two more coffees were set in front of them, still steaming.

 

“Shut up, you babies, and drink your fucking coffee.” Gerard grinned up at Mikey, and started drinking. A while later, Gerard’s lunch hour ended, and no matter how much he tried to tell Frank that his boss wouldn’t care if he stayed a bit longer, Frank still insisted that he go back to work.

 

The day continued going on normally after the excitement of the news, and Frank managed to calm himself enough that he only seemed to be slightly buzzed on the outside. Pete congratulated him on the news when he stopped in, seeming more like the guy they saw before he knew of their past.

 

Everything was coming up Milhouse. When the band went by the company to drop off the demos, they got a call back that day, scheduling a studio time. Frank, Mikey and Gerard went out for dinner that night, using the little bit of cash they had saved up.

 

Frank spent most of the meal talking about what might happen in the future, the possibility of touring, a second record, anything he could think of. Mikey was focused on the food, most of the time, but Gerard got caught up in Frank’s energy, his hands moving around as he tried to articulate the possibilities. Gerard threw in a few suggestions, and even Mikey chimed in at the odd time, though he seemed deep in thought about something.

 

“What’s on your mind?” Frank asked during a lull in the conversation, kicking Mikey gently under the table, not enough to hurt but causing him to start. He looked up from his plate, glasses almost falling off his nose, and shrugged. Gerard jostled his shoulder gently, frowning.

 

“Come on Mikes, you can tell us,” he prompted, and Mikey nodded, fiddling with the table cloth.

 

“I think…” Mikey paused, gathering courage. “I think I want to go back to school, for music.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

Frank was quiet for a while, watching Gerard to gauge his reaction. He didn’t seem to bothered by it, but Frank knew he wouldn’t be. Gerard would have given Mikey the moon, if he wanted it.

 

“Sure, why not?” Gerard said, smiling lightly. “Did you have any ideas of where you wanted to go?” Mikey seemed to be in a bit of a shocked state that Gerard agreed that easily, but started explaining this school he had heard of from Pete.

 

“I mean, I know I’m going to have to finish high school first, and get my name changed ‘nd shit so that they don’t find us, and that’s going to suck dicks, but I want to do something more with my life than make coffee for angsty college and high school kids.” He shrugged, looking back down towards his plate.

 

“Like, Frank’s doing all this cool shit with the band, and I’m happy for you, I am, I swear.” Mikey looked back up at Frank, firmly stating this, and Frank smiled, nodding. “But it’s hard to be so happy when I know that you’re going to be out there, doing all this cool shit, while I’m making coffee for seven hours a day.”

 

Gerard nodded, and pulled Mikey into a hug. Frank stayed quiet, not wanting to intrude in what was obviously a family moment, but couldn’t help but smile when he saw how much Gerard cared for his brother.

 

“We’ll call Pete for more information on all the legal shit once we get home, if it isn’t too late, and we’ll get this all figured out, I promise Mikey.” The younger brother nodded, and went back to his food, his silence now more content than scared.

 

When they did get home, Frank retreated to the bedroom, while Mikey and Gerard called Pete, asking about where hr would go to highschool, and how they would get him into the system without alerting the authorities. Frank sat on the bed, fiddling with his guitar as he looked out the small window into the coming summer night.

 

Frank wasn’t really planning on it, but he started strumming out the chords to  the song he had been working on, though it wasn’t ready yet to show the others. He stared down at his hands as they moved across the frets, and found himself smiling. Even when everything was changing, he had this.

 

He was suddenly filled with the urge to write more, but he didn’t know where to go with it from there. It didn’t sound like anything Pencey had written so far. It was softer, more mystical than most of the other songs, and Frank had a feeling it wasn’t for now.

 

Maybe one day in the future, it would be brought to the front of his mind again, and it would be time for it to see the light of day, but not right now.

 

Setting his guitar aside. Frank leaned back on the bed. To his surprise, he was quite tired, the excitement of the day wearing him down only now, as he stared up at the ceiling.

 

Thoughts were dancing on the edge of his mind that Frank didn’t want, and he tried to chase them off, but even the most exciting of possibilities seemed impossible in the face of his doubts.

 

What if something happened while he was busy, and he didn’t find out until it was too late? What if Mikey got found in his new high school, and put in jail? What if Mikey went home and took Gerard with him?

 

What if Frank was alone again?

 

He was still lost to his thoughts, knees curled up to his chest under the single blanket they owned, when Gerard came into the bedroom, looking for him.

 

Usually, Frank could tell Gerard everything, and the older would figure out how to make Frank feel better, but this time, he couldn’t bare the thought of burdening Gerard with all of his bullshit.

 

So, when Gerard asked him what was wrong, Frank forced a smile onto his face, and said, “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just tired. Too much excitement for one day, I guess.” Gerard seemed suspicious for a moment, but shrugged, going over to the bed and grabbing his sketchpad that sat at Frank’s foot. He allowed his eyes to slip closed, as they were stinging from being open too long.

 

“Do you mind if I draw you?” Gerard asked nervously. Frank was confused, since Gerard had drawn him hundreds of times over without asking. He popped one eye open, seeing the artist standing there, shifting from side to side.

 

“Sure?” Frank replied, the answer sounding more like a question than he had intended, but Gerard was satisfied with it, and walked around the room for a bit, looking back at Frank until he found the right place, where the dim city light hit his skin in such a way that he seemed to glow slightly, sunkissed skin looking almost unnatural in the light.

 

“Do you want me to sit up, or pose, or something?” Frank asked lightly, interrupting Gerard’s thought process.

 

“No, it’s okay. Just lay down, and relax.” He answered, settling down on the floor, back leaning against the wall. Gerard had drawn Frank in action plenty of times, pulling memories from when he was on stage, thrashing about, or even bouncing around the coffee shop.

 

Scarcely was he still and relaxed. He liked seeing Frank calm, but lately whenever he was still, he was sad, the light that used to shine in his eyes having been extinguished long ago.

 

Gerard knew the moment that Frank fell asleep, and his breathing evened out, and all of the tension in his face faded. He smiled softly, glad that Frank was getting some peace- finally- even if he couldn’t fully appreciate it, since he was unconscious.

 

Mikey walked in a while later, a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. He kept quiet, walking over to where Gerard was curled around his notebook in the corner. He glanced down at the drawing, curling his knees up to his chin, humming contentedly. It was an awkward position for the boy, his gangly legs having grown long before the rest of his body could catch up.

 

Sometimes Gerard forgot that they were all just kids.

 

“It’s all good?” Gerard mumbled, shading in a part of the sheets as he spoke, tilting notebook so that it was comfortable to move his wrist a certain way.

 

“Yeah, Pete’s got a guy, and he’s gonna call him and get me enrolled as soon as possible. I think he’s more excited than I am.” Mikey replied in a low voice, and Gerard smirked, stifling a short laugh.

 

“Who just has a guy to enroll possibly criminal kids into high school?” He hissed, shaking his head. “Our lives have gotten so weird, Mikes.” Mikey bumped his shoulder against Gerard, still studying the drawing.

 

“But you’re happy now, that’s all that matters. You’re not drinking to forget the problems, you’re facing them. I’m proud of you.” Gerard tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, nodding.

 

He was doing better, he hadn’t taken anything since Frank’s last show, but he couldn’t say he was clean. He still would accept a drink or some pills if someone offered it to him, and Mikey wasn’t there.

 

It killed him inside to admit that he was still broken.

 

But, instead of admitting his faults, Gerard just smiled tightly, pretending to be focused on the drawing. Mikey laid his head on Gerard’s shoulder, watching him work in silence. That was one of the things Gerard loved about his brother, the fact that he just knew when silence was okay, and that he didn’t need to fill it with useless small talk.

 

Mikey seemed to have dozed off after a while, his breathing evening out, head still leaning against Gerard’s shoulder, who was still drawing diligently.

 

He glanced up at Franks face for a reference, even though he had already memorized the entirety of his features, enjoying drawing them because of the sharp lines of his face. Franks face, once Gerard focused, seemed to be scrunching up slightly, from a dream, he assumed.

 

Frank started making small noises, grabbing at the blankets that had already been pulled up to his chin, and rolling over, hiding his face in a pillow as the obvious nightmare became worse. Gerard frowned, unable to draw Frank anymore as he had turned away, and put his sketchpad to the side for now, nudging Mikey awake, though he could have easily carried his tog of a brother to the bed.

 

"Come on, your neck's going to hurt if you sleep like that. Bed." Gerard murmured, helping Mikey stand and guiding him over to the bed, allowing him to flop down on his side. Gerard pulled the sheet over his brother, before moving to the other side, and wiggling his way onto the bed, forcing Frank over to the middle.

 

Once he had settled in underneath the thin sheet, Frank wiggled back over, forcing himself between Gerards arms as he rested his head against Gerard’s chest, effectively using him as a living pillow. The nightmare was gone, the physical presence of another human helping fight off the demons plaguing his mind. Gerard smiled softly, pleased that he could help Frank by just holding him.

 

He could literally _feel_ Mikey rolling his eyes when he kissed Frank’s forehead, but Gerard didn’t let that bother him too much, because he knew it was out of affection that Mikey did it.

 

Morning came much too soon for Gerard, who only managed to pass out an hour before they had to get up, leading to him drinking two large coffees, and buying an extra for the road. Frank grinned at his back as he left the coffee shop, lips still tingling from their goodbye kiss, before going back to his own work.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter bc the end is near


	16. Chapter 16

Frank had to fill in for Mikey a bit, as Pete was talking to him about going back to school, and what they would have to do to get him in, but thankfully, Patrick stepped up to help out. They started getting their old customers back, and more, so the workload would have simply been much too much for Frank by himself.

 

However, he would have suffered through it if it meant he didn’t have to make awkward conversation with Patrick for the first fifty minutes of his shift.

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the dude, he was great, and unexplainably nice, but he always seemed way too concerned for Frank’s well being, especially for someone it doesn’t remotely effect.

 

Their conversation was at a standstill when the door chimes went off, and Shaun walked in, staring at his phone as he clicked out a message on the small keys.

 

“Hey Shaun!” Frank greeted, standing by the cash register. “What brings you around?” Shaun looked up, grinned, and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Just wanted some coffee, and John refused to get off his lazy ass to get some.”

 

“Don’t you guys have a coffee maker?” Frank questioned, already turning to tell Patrick what he knew Shaun would order.

 

“Well yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to see your pretty little midget ass until whenever the fuck it is we’re recording.”

 

“Friday.” Frank shot back, rolling his eyes as he takes the bills Shaun held out, counting out the correct amount of change and handing it to him.

 

“I don’t even know what day it is, so that doesn’t really do shit for me.” Shaun shrugged again, and Frank laughed, shaking his head knowingly. The only reason Shaun hadn’t missed any practices was because he lived in their practice space, rooming with John.

 

“It’s Tuesday. Now here’s your coffee, you pothead.” Frank told him, handing him the steaming paper mug with a grin. Shaun nodded his thanks, before taking his leave, the bells jingling again as he left.

 

The shop was quiet again for a bit, Patrick picking at the threads of his argyle sweater before taking in a small breath.

 

“So… Your band got signed?” Frank let a huge grin on to his face, nodding eagerly. As much as his brain was telling him to stop, that Patrick didn’t actually care, he ignored it in favour of speaking passionately about one of his favourite things to do. Once he had finished ranting, Patrick had a wide smile on his face. He could see the life rushing through Frank, something he hadn’t seen before. The dim eyes of the teen seemed to have a slight shine behind them as he spoke.

 

“From what I’ve heard of you guys, I’m sure you’ll go far. Honestly Frank, your guitar playing is amazing, and at such a young age as well.” Frank beamed at the praise, face flushed slightly. “Your parents must be so proud.” Patrick saw the glow disappeared as he spoke, and he quickly chided himself for his foolish words. Before he could get out an apology though, Frank had already replied.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re thrilled that their faggot son is doing something useless with his life. I bet they’ll be even happier when the band tours, because the cops will catch word of a Frank Iero, and bring me back to them.” Frank spat out, not even halfway finished ranting. “I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic to send me off to some camp to ‘fix me’. It’ll be grand time for all, even Mikey and Gerard, who’ll be in prison. Great times to be had all around.” Patrick flinched, the guilt he felt for causing this pushing down on his lungs.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry Frank. I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t think through what I was saying.” Patrick said, but Frank just shrugged it off.

 

“Not your fault, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if I hadn’t made the stupid choice to run away.”

 

“Hey!” Patrick exclaimed, frowning. He hadn’t meant for his words to cause the boy such pain. Frank glanced up curiously, and when his eyes met Patrick’s, his gaze was filled with so much hurt and self loathing that Patrick felt his heart clench. “It’s not your fault that your parents are homophobic bastards, okay? It will never be your fault. You made the right choice, given the circumstances. Don’t do this to yourself, Frank. You’re too important to everyone here to let those kinds of thoughts eat you alive. Got it?” Frank nodded meekly, though he still didn’t fully believe his words.

 

“I promise, me and Pete will never let anything happen to you guys. No matter what lead up to it, you guys are our responsibility, our family. Maybe not legally, but we have the mental obligation to keep you three safe and happy. We don’t do it just because we have to. We care about you guys.” Patrick continued quickly, seeing the doubt on Frank’s face. “We do it because we like seeing you happy.” Frank shrugged his shoulders again. Even if it was true, it made Frank feel worse, as he ruined another person's potential life, something they could have done anything with. His stomach churned in guilt, but he forced a smile onto his face, trying to reassure Patrick that he was okay.

 

Patrick just shook his head slightly, helpless to try and fix the obvious pain he was feeling. Though the smile helped ease his nerves a bit, he still felt terrible for what he said, and was thankful for the chance to duck into the back when Mikey emerged.

 

Mikey bumped his shoulder against Franks in greeting, before getting down to work. Frank though, was still thinking, his stomach dropping to his gut as each piece of evidence became more clear. Really, he was just weighing down even more people than he had thought previously.

 

Not only was he dragging Gerard and Mikey down, away from their home and the only place they had known as home, but now he was forcing two perfectly kind, maybe a bit eccentric, people into doing possibly illegal things, such as hiding his identity, and believing a supposed “kidnapper” was innocent.

 

Mikey was looking at him when he came back from his consuming thoughts, and from the look on his face, he knew exactly the kind of thoughts that he was having.

 

“Sorry.” Frank mumbled uselessly, staring at his shoes, which were reaching homeless person garb status, the soles wearing out and the bottoms separating at the heel.

 

“Frank…”  Mikey paused, trying to figure out what to say. He wasn’t good at this, preferring to let Gerard deal with the whole emotional bullshit. “Your feelings matter. I know that, but I also know that, sometimes, your feelings are wrong… okay?” Frank was still staring at his shoes, but shrugged, acknowledging that Mikey had spoken, but not really hearing them.

 

“Okay, even if you don’t believe me, you need to stop being a fucking idiot. We all want to be here, and be around you.” Mikey said, finally getting his attention. “I understand you have this whole depression thing going on, but you can’t let it control you. Don’t listen to it when it tells you those types of things. Got it?” His words were firm, finally breaking through Franks ‘protective’ walls.

 

Even though he wasn’t the biggest fan of hugs, he granted them when they were deserved, and right now, the only thing he wanted to do was hug the shit out of Mikey, for chasing off a possible relapse into his mind.

 

“Are you okay?” Mikey asked after a minute, when Frank finally pulled away.

 

“No, but I’m working on it. I promise.” Frank said, meaning his words. Mikey smiled at him lightly, before turning back to the coffee machine, pleased with his work.

 

Of course, getting to the point where Frank could say “I’m fine.” Without outright lying, would take months, if not years. He wouldn’t lie anymore, and say that he was though. It helped that Frank was actually actively working to get better, but there were still times when he would doubt himself, doubt what he’s done.

 

The worst was possibly when he broke up with Gerard the day before he went on tour.

 

The record had been selling well, and the label decided to send them on a tour across the country, hoping for it’s popularity to spread over there as they went along.

 

Frank couldn’t help but think about how being so far away might affect Gerard, and their relationship. Somehow, in his mind, it made sense to break it off.

 

He did it the last day he and Gerard had with each other. He explained, or tried to explain himself, but Gerard just ended up confused, and hurt.

 

“But Frank-”

 

“No, Gerard. I promise, it’s better if I don’t have contact with you, if the police catch on to who I am.” Frank looked down at his shoes, frowning. He still hadn’t bought new ones. “I’ll send money back, you can Mikey get a nicer place, and keep him in school. Tell Patrick and Pete I’m sorry, and that I asked them to keep looking after you guys.”

 

“Frank, no, this isn’t right, you’re not thinking straight, please!” He could hear the pain in Gerard’s voice, but couldn’t bring himself to look at him.

 

“I’m sorry Gerard. Mikey can have my cds. I’ll see you when-” Frank stopped himself there, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Bye.” With that, he turned on his heel, walking out of the apartment with careful, measured steps.

 

Gerard didn’t follow, or say anything else.

 

Frank turned off his phone until he got off the plane the next day. He had two new messages, both from Mikey. “Hey, was thinking of going out to dinner tonight, do you think we got enough to spare? If not, I can pick up pizza on my way home.” The first read. Frank held his breath before opening the last.

 

“You’re a fucking asshole.” Frank felt all the progress he had managed in the last few months ruin, as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

 

He didn’t reply. They were better off without him anyway. When his bandmates asked if he was okay, he forced a smile, and nodded.

 

None of them would know the difference anyway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't post in a while because I've been busy, I'm so sorry. So yeah that's the end of Goya, I'll probably make a follow up, but I'm gonna take a break from this story for a while. Thank you all for reading!


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